In one week, I, Gus, will celebrate three years as a beloved pack member of the Hooker Horde. I’ve lived here as long as I lived in the puppy mill.
When my foster parents, Debbie and Richard, had me, I was a afraid of the grass. Seriously. I didn’t even walk on it.
I love to chase my brother, Booker, when he runs after his ball. In the early morning, the grass is wet and the fur on my short legs gets all kinds of curly when I run across it.
Looking at my teeth, the doctor thinks I”m about six years old. But, if watch me run, I run like a puppy. I’m still learning how to make my legs work.
When I run, my ears flop.
When I toward her, my hu-mom smiles.