Asher

Life Is Good

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Asher

Remember when you were little and life was exciting? Everything was new and smelled so good. Waking up was fun. Breakfast couldn’t come soon enough. Who knew what the day would hold.

I’m four now but I still think life is lots of fun. Turns out my name means blessing or happiness. It comes from the Bible. I’m not religious but I do respect the beliefs of others.

I like the idea that many many years ago someone named Asher was promised a happy life. I don’t know if his life turned out that way or not. But maybe if we all lived our lives expecting good things, we could overlook some of the sorry stuff that happens.

My friend Tess didn’t always have it so good. She was a stray and spent time in the shelter. When she first came to Asherpark she ran around in circles. But after being with us for eight months, she’s changed her ways. Now she’s happy.

Tess and Asher

Tess and I are lucky to have each other. We play together a lot. Sometimes we just hang out and wait for the next chance to bark. She didn’t know how to play when I met her.  It’s been fun to watch her learn.

Tess and Ash

She’s gotten real good at tug, but she has to take a bigger bite if she wants to win. She says she doesn’t care who wins. She just wants to play. Maybe we should all be that way. See ya!

Asher

Happy Birthday Little Brother

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Zag

It’s April First. My brother Zag was born on Fool’s Day. I think that’s why he’s such a silly little fellow. Here he is with his ball at the beach. He can’t really swim, but he sure can splash a lot.

Zag is a great guy. I’m glad he’s my brother. He has responsibilities. He takes care of his mom and little brother Rhett. Here’s a picture of Rhett. OMG it’s true. Rhett really is a Chihuahua.

Rhett

Zag and Rhett come to Asherpark whenever they can. We have to be careful not to step on Rhett. Mom started calling Rhett the “Little White Thing” and now we hardly remember his real name.

Zag is so weird. He’s terrified of laundry. He crawls into a corner and hides his eyes when laundry is folded. Me, I love laundry. In fact, I’m known as the laundry thief. One time our neighbor came over. Nobody was paying any attention to me, so I ran and grabbed my mom’s dirty underwear from the laundry basket. Oh boy! I got lots of attention when they saw what I had. HaHa!

Zag went to a horse show last week. He gets to stay in the trailer and go everywhere with his mom. He doesn’t bark at the horses. I can’t wait till he comes back to Asherpark so I can teach him some bad habits. Happy Birthday Zag! See ya.

Jack

The Past

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Jack

Jack

A call came yesterday from the shelter where I did time. It was the animal control officer who seized me from my previous owner. My new people wanted to know my history and had asked to talk to the officer who investigated my case.

The officer said there was a complaint that animals were living in filthy conditions. With a warrant, the officer entered the house and found me, five small dogs, lots of cats and my pal Butch.

I didn’t care much about housekeeping, but the officer said we could not stay there. The people who lived in the house did not take out the garbage. They didn’t clean the cat box or pick up our poop, so the odor was terrible. We were all taken to the shelter. Butch and I were put in the same cage. I couldn’t see well because my eyes were nearly glued shut with infection. The officer said we all had fleas and my skin was damaged from scratching.

The authorities brought charges against my owner for neglecting us. She had the right to get us back if she went to court, so Butch and I were held at the shelter for a long time. She never came for us. In fact she never showed up for court so there’s still a case against her.

I don’t remember much about the lady who used to own me. She wasn’t mean to me. I don’t remember being kicked or beaten. But she never put me to bed at night or told me that she loved me. That came later, in my new home.

The shelter doctor gave me medicine for my eyes. My skin healed up when the fleas left. I felt a lot better and had plenty to eat. As long as I had Butch things were tolerable. Then one day Butch left. I don’t know where he went. I hope he went to a place where they treat him right.

The weeks dragged on forever. I hated living in that cage. Then one Saturday morning the shelter staff told me I was going on a big adventure. They put my leash on me and walked me to a car. They said good bye to me and wished me well.

I got in the car with another dog and we rode for a long time. Pretty soon we came to a stop and a man and woman took my leash and led me to their car. The next thing I knew I was at Asherpark about to begin my new life.