I’ve had Dobers since 1973. Sometimes I think about which my last Dober will be - when will I age out to where it’s time to give up my dog? Or what if I get sick and can’t keep him anymore? I don’t spend time on it; I’m robust and strong and good for now, but inevitably that day will come (hopefully not for a good number of years yet), and I’ll have to make that most difficult decision to let my dog go. I don’t even like typing it.
The owner of this dear Dobergirl (and apparently additional dogs, too) has become ill to the point that she no longer can keep her dogs and has had to give them up. (Again, hate even typing it.) Our dogs are family to us. We love our families, but somehow dogs carve out their own particular place in our hearts without taking away from the humans we love. To every true dog lover, the bond with our dogs is profoundly strong.
It may sound odd, but I have cried much harder over the successive deaths of my dogs through the years than I did for my parents when each passed in turn, and I deeply loved, and got along with my parents wonderfully well all my life. I’m guessing you understand me when I say that, at least I hope so. There’s just something about a dog, and if you’re a dog person, you get it.
She is a beautiful girl with the somewhat common flopped ear and the less common badge of honor and motherhood - teats that indicate she has fed her babies at some point.
Enough then, on to observations from our volunteers:
“My first impression of Raina was what a happy smile she has. When you see a dog smiling up at you when you first meet it, you know you’ve got a good one! Raina has the personality to go with that smile too. She also has a sleek muzzle and distinctive markings that help her stand out in a crowd.”
This lovely Dobergirl came from a loving home, and she awaits the blessing of a new loving home. Is yours the one? If you think she might be the dog for you, initiate the process: apply, acceptance, appointment, arrive, acquaint, away.
And a long and healthy life to you both. |
