When 3 of my 4 children had left home and I was feeling really low, I told my husband I needed a dog. He said, “Are you sure?” I said, “I think so. I want one the size of Sebastian (He was then my son’s dog) and I want it to be in the house with me. We answered an advertisement in the paper and found Shelly, a purebred lhasa apso. She was bigger than standard, however, which made her a bit bigger than I thought I could handle in the house. The people were selling her for $99.00 which included her crate, her food bowl and food, water dish and collar. She wasn’t groomed and didn’t look very nice. They told us they worked a lot and didn’t have time for her. When I heard she spent 12 – 16 hours per day in her crate (which she filled) and then was put back in the crate at night for bed, I could have cried. I knew I had to take her even though she was too big for me. I would find her a good home.
She was very frightened in the car on the way home. She put her head in my elbow and pushed into my lap. By the time we drove the 10 or so miles home, she was MY dog. She has been my dog for 12 years. She was 13 years old on January 4. She is the kindest, sweetest and gentlest pup with the grandkids. She lets them pull her long hair, take her bones right out of her mouth and runs for tennis balls they throw just to hear them giggle with glee. This is a picture of our prints in the snow–side by side, like always.
Shelly and Me