Almost two weeks ago, we brought home a dog from a shelter that rescued him from death in the states.
We have never done this before, but the thought of saving an animals life has such a huge impact on me, that we decided we would give it a try.

So, Snoopy has come to stay with us. He is somewhere between 2-5 years old. (No one seems to know for sure) I do not know to what extent he was abused, but I can tell you from the moment we saw him his sad eyes told a story. He was so timid and quiet we were unsure what to do with him.

At first he would not follow us up the stairs, and he would quietly shadow us, ever cautious, always waiting for our hand to come down on him.

We bathed him, and he lost so much hair it alarmed me. The poor little guy was so thin and bony you could easily see his ribcage.

He had trouble looking at us for a day or two, and slept most of the time.

I remember David carrying him gently up the stairs for bed time and him staying put afraid to move.

This dog is simply not the same now. Within the two weeks we have had him, he is no longer afraid of us. He runs up the stairs after us! He snuggles with us at bedtime, goes for at least two walks everyday, to the dogpark on Sunday, eats like a horse, and we have even heard him bark a couple times.

He still cowers sometimes, still seems unsure a bit near strangers (especially men), but for the most part his growth has restored my faith in the impact we as humans can have on the lives of animals.

My oldest son, came to me the other day while I was sitting with snoop, and said "Mom, do you know that Snoopy is your therapy dog?" I looked at him, smiled at his profoundness, and asked him what he meant. He explained that he had read about how dogs can provide therapy to people in hospitals and schools, and said that he knew that I was sad sometimes and that Snoopy had been sent to us to make me smile again.

And that...he has.