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Since I toot (still makes me giggle) about Aphrodite so much, I thought I would give her a thread of her very own.

In 2009, I adopted a 3 yr old bull mastiff who was unoriginally named, Dozer. I don't have many pictures of his early life with us because he was brindle but had a jet-black face that didn't show well in photos. He had bitten the original owner's daughter when she had, for the last time, tormented him. The owner recognized the problem and found him a new home.

Dozer was confused by the move but took our family quickly.

I have never been partial to small dogs, but never owned a dog THIS big...150 lbs!

We had some learning to do, quickly.

Teaching him leash etiquette was a struggle since, at the time, he outweighed me by 20 lbs. I preserved and he relented to the training, of me... finally.

Bull mastiffs are very loyal AND very territorial. He did not take kindly to strangers be it animal or human, which was okay by me..

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I learned as much as I could about the breed, much of it that didn't apparently apply to Dozer such as they aren't barkers....he certainly was.

I also learned that they have a short lifespan compared to other dogs (only finding that great Danes average shorter).

The only real issue we had, and it was a big one, was that he carried the memory of the young girl's torment. He never liked little girls or small women...and would bark aggressively at any who happened by the house.

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That, and the short lifespan prediction, had me wondering if we had made the right choice for Dozer and ourselves, very briefly.

We made accommodations to our house that limited his exposure to his stressors and limited our stress at the same time.

We lived in doggo bliss for years....a lot more years than expected.

In May 2018, we took Dozer-doodle's pain into ourselves and made the difficult decision to help him over the 🌈 bridge. I was devastated.

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Did we do it too soon? Did we wait too long? Questions I still ask myself today.

But he gave us 9 years of love, loyalty....and patience, living to the ripe old age of 12 1/2.

I swore I would NEVER get another dog of my own. I was depressed for months.

I found comfort in the other dogs of the house, Monster and Gator, but it wasn't the same. I was Dozer-doodle's and he was mine...and I was lost.

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This went on for months.

The questioning, the emptiness, the questioning, the emptiness.....

Then BAM! I saw a picture on Facebook and I felt the depression lifting....a local rescue had gotten a dog from a puppy mill. She had been used as a brood mare. Over used. Underweight, overbred, riddled with 3 types of worms but, my G-d, I fell head over heels.

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I contacted the rescue and found out that due to her horrible condition, her medical bills were high and it would cost $900 to adopt her. 😳

They also explained that she was not socialized to humans or other animals...

I talked to hubby, who would have to foot the bill, and he was hesitant (that's being generous) but told me to apply and arrange the home visit.

Our application got rejected. We lived too rurally for anyone to come do the home visit... "

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"Why didn't we stay in town?", I asked myself for the first time in 5 years....

I called the rescue and made my appeal. I had the means, the knowledge, and the love to give THIS dog. Dozer had taught me well. I would do anything to facilitate a home visit including driving and getting the person that would do it.

They relented! I was able to do a video house visit, I submitted Dozer-doodle's vet records to show everything we were willing to do for our family members.

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