This is Charleston, a.k.a. Charlie. He has been with me now for about 2 months - he's 8 months old and weighs about 5 lbs. He's a terrier-poodle-something-or-another. No matter. He's totally adorable and is such a great source of happiness in my burrow. Well, he's a great source of happiness to everyone in my burrow except the cat, who so far is not impressed with this mongrel. Charleston is a rescue pup and I think he's made out pretty darn good. I wish all rescue pups were so lucky.
This is my cat. His name is Lucky. I found him as a little 4-5 week old gray dustball in the middle of a busy highway and picked him up - hence, the name "Lucky". He's not a very appreciative cat; in fact, he's downright mean. But after 14 years we've figured out how to co-exist and that simply means that I let Lucky make the rules. This burrow and everyone in it is his "pride" and he doesn't hesitate to keep a tight reign on his subjects.
How would our lives be so different without the wonderful animals that become a part of our family? I simply cannot imagine.
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