I was newly divorced and having to move into my parents home that had been empty for 5 years. I had my two small dogs who mercifully were away with me when I was robbed.
I saw an ad on Facebook to buy, sell, and trade for a brown "mutt pit weenie" and attempted to get my shelter friend to rescue him. No go, they were full. The lady who had him said her husband was going to shoot him in the head if he wasn't gone asap, so I said I would take him. We met at Wal-Mart and when her husband went to put him out of his truck bed poor Oscar lost control, screamed, and pooped everywhere. The guy raised his hand and I said, "That will do!" and loaded the poor skinny creature in my car on a pillow. He stared straight ahead, frightened, trying not to show it... kind of how I felt too. It took a lot to gain trust, like putting his food bowl out of sight of the outside doors, or getting him to come inside when it was freezing cold... but 4 years later, he is happy, jumps when he wants in or out, and considers himself the man and protector of the house. My new husband let's him feel he has retained his title, and they are inseparable.
He has scars all on his face and body. The vet thought he was a bait dog that somehow escaped alive. His muzzle is white and he can't see as well as he once could. He has moments where he will freeze and then run and hide under the bed occasionally, growling lightly. We don't know why he does this as it is random, but we just allow him to hide till he feels better. I don't know his past, age, or how long I have left with him... but he now knows security, a home with food and a warm bed. He knows unconditional love, and so do I.
TALLAHASSEE, FL
