Max and Fang

Precious

After her first trip to the dog groomer.

How Precious Earned her Nickname

November 1st, I saw my opportunity to escape madness and took it.

2 weeks before, my owner had a stroke and was hospitalized. My care was passed to the landlord on a temporary basis. What will happen longterm?

While my owner's son is willing to give me to the SPCA, a friend steps forward pleading for the case that his mother will be shattered by the permanent loss of her Precious dog. The friend volunteers to temporarily foster me.

Housed with 6 other dogs and with no flea control I am miserable. In addition, children have been added to the mix who insist on carrying me around and brushing my tangled fur.

The last straw was being left in the backyard with the other dogs while the dog caregiver went off to Escalon for a funeral leaving us with yet another stranger to check on us and feed us for the weekend. And by now the weather has turned with a chilly day of rain.

Sunday night the out of town guests are leaving and I see the opportunity to escape. It's 10 p.m. on a dark and rainy night and I am determined to find my way to safety. At 3 a.m. Monday I am cold  and wet  and lost, I decide to scratch on a welcoming door on Homewood but my shyness holds me back from  accepting the hospitality offered and I run off again.

12 hours later I am running down the middle of Gunn Road when my rescuer spots me. Terrified yet submissive, Karin can't be worse than what I've experienced the past 15 hours. She takes me home and gives me a good look over then takes me to the vet. My skin appears to be on fire. It was probably a reaction to what I've been through, a flea allergy and the road oil that covers my body. A bath with Dawn, a steroid, an antibiotic and plenty of loving care and I'm feeling like the precious little dog I am.

My rescuer Karin posts Found Dog on Next Door and finds the probable owner on Craigslist.

My owner is headed for rehab for her paralysis and won't be able to have me back under her new living situation so I have been relinquished to Karin and her mom.

Two mommies, a foster brother, regular meals, my own bed and attention to my needs: what better could I hope for?

The nickname White Fang appropriately honors my great misadventure.