My mother, me and my siblings were brought to the killing station when we were one month old... Each of us was chosen and and handed over as a gift to whoever came by, one by one we were adopted.
I was put in a card board box, with little holes in it and a big red ribbon around it. On three kings Days, I was the alive playdoll puppy of the children in the house.
Day and night I was dragged around though the yard, to the neighbours, to the field, we played and played, so much happiness.
The atmosphere became less friendly and I felt that my family didn't love me so much anymore.. Why.. they thought I was getting too big, I was not new anymore and no matter how I tried to show that my friendship was endless....
On a certain dag, we drove to a place together, where the cries and screams for help hurt my feelings
I resisted, I cried, I held on to the children tight, with my paws around them, but they left me behind...
There, in the same place where my mother never got out, I was there to.. I became to big.
A volunteer helped me and could save me from death, for three years...
During the floods last december, I was saved by a family who temporarily wanted to take me in foster... this was a turning point.
Today, I am still looking for an owner who wants to go for me a 100%, for the rest of my already short life.
I am a quiet and noble dog, super social with other dogs. Just recently my foster family als started fostering India, the Galgo.
Together we wait, paw in paw, untill somebody chooses one of us, and live in a home where we will never have to leave again, where we can come home