Gus –  Almost three years ago, hu-mom saw my picture on Furburbia’s page.  My name was Barley.  Hu-mom and I have the same strawberry-blonde fur.  She says my brown eyes looked fearful, disconnected and sad. 

Hu-mom pretended she was going to foster me.  But, before picking me up she stopped to buy me treats and new toys.  (Little did she know it would take me about two years to start playing with toys.)

Hu-mom showed up at Furburbia with liver bites and chicken strips in her pockets.  When she came into my kennel, I made myself as small as possible in the corner.  I didn’t look at her.  My body shook.  She, however, scooped me up.  My whole body went rigid.

I was one of ninety dogs rescued from a puppy mill in Missouri by a Utah rescue group.  Then, I became one of eight to come to Park City to find a forever home.  Everypawdy else went home, but me.  I was too scared to make a good impression.

At Furburbia, they told hu-mom, “He may never be a ‘normal’ dog.” 

When I arrived home, I didn’t want to get out of my kennel.  Hu-mom pulled me out.  But, I’d run back in every chance I got.

Hu-mom thought I was a tough little dude, so she called me “Harley.”  It rhymed with “Barley.”  I didn’t speak.  Otherwise, I would’ve told her, “That’s not my name.

For a long time, whenever I was out of my kennel, I’d just shake.

Hu-mom doesn’t allow kennels in the bedroom, so I started sleeping on the pillows next to her. 

When hu-mom took the kennels out of the whole house, I made myself as comfortable as I could on the landing of the stairs.  From there, I could survey they scene.

One day, I was sitting there while hu-mom had a glass of wine with her friend, Elfie.  Yep, that’s really her name.  She’s a person, too. 

Anyway, hu-mom said, “Gus.”  I raised my eyebrows and my head. 

That’s my name.  I share my name with Captain Augustus McCrae, a Texas Ranger, in the book, Lonesome Dove.  Like me, he just needed a second chance.

Hu-mom says I’m starting my half-life this year.  I will have lived in the Hooker Horde as long as I lived in the puppy mill. 

I’m becoming a real dog. 

After about three months, I jumped up on the sofa.  Hu-mom was ecstatic.

I used to go upstairs to the bedroom or onto the landing when people came to visit.  Now, I sit on my sofa. 

My big sister, Faith, helped me learn to bark, play, and run. 

In the mornings, I practice yoga by completing a series that includes downward facing dog poses.

I LOVE to run in the open space.  My ears flop up and down when I do.

Even though I’ve lived with hu-mom for almost three years, I don’t like to take treats from her hand.  But, at Thanksgiving, I’ll eat turkey off her fingers.

Sometimes I have accidents in the house.  Hu-mom just wipes them up with a squirt bottle full of vinegar.  She’s never raised her voice at me.  I’ve never heard the word, “no.”

We consider my birthday, July 15, 2010.  That’s when I came to live with hu-mom and the Hooker Horde.  We don’t talk about my previous life. 

At night, hu-mom tells me, “This is your house.  This is your bed.  These are your pillows.  This is your family.  You will always be loved.  You will always have plenty of food.  You will always be warm, safe and dry.  I love you.”

Most people get dogs because they want unconditional love.  I love in my own way.  It took me a little bit of time to learn how to love.  I helped hu-mom learn patience.

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