
That certainly was a terrible mistake, and I am very sorry I let all my fans down. People loved it when they watch me play at the dog park because I played harder than anybody else. I could run just as fast as Basenjis. I wrestled with a 100 lbs Rottweiler for 60 minutes and pulled a draw. And when it comes to playing ball, I rushed, stepped to the side, faked and turned, never got caught by anyone. People said "This guy is gonna make it to the NFL someday..."
Oops, those are things in the past, good old memories. Got to speak about Pocket today.
Pocket was about to get killed once? Twice?? Three times. Thanks to the
great effort of adoption office staff, we could get Pocket back after 2
long hours. It makes me think that some people, or dogs, are destined to
live, rather than to die soon. The second life may not be easy, but I believe
they are scheduled to witness some important event in history, or to do
something important for the society.
...Oh, me? "The King of Dog Park" has already paid his due, just like Elvis, James Dean, or Jimi Hendrix did. (???)
Now, little skinny Pocket goes on mission !! (Donft worry, Ifll be watching you, brother.)


A few minutes later, this guy came back with his hands up and go, "Ah...
That dog is not good for adoption. He shows his teeth and growls at me.
Doesn't seem to let me touch at all. Go to the kennel and find another
one, please." ...What do you mean go to the kennnel ? What are you
gonna do to my dog, kill him !?
The guy said "Um... yeah, probably." Then took the paper to the
adoption office and disappeared.
By then, Pocket was moved to vet's cage, scheduled to undergo some checkup and mandatory shots. Dad brought the paperwork to the counter. The vet's receptionist said, "OK, let me go back there and make sure the dog on this paper is yours..."
"Oh, well... anyway, take these to the vet's counter over there and you are all set." And she gave us some paperwork which still says "Shar-Pei mix, Age: 12mo, Sex: FEMALE."
Next morning at the shelter, it turned out that there was no competition over Pocket, naturally.
The girl at the shelter said "Dogs in such a bad condition have very
little chance to be adopted... We usually have to put them down. See, his
record says "Brought to a North LV animal hospital, totally dehydrated
and half comatosed, moved to Dewey shelter and passed...". Oh my god.
It says he's already dead."
Fortunately, it was not the case with "Pocket the Survivor".
The reason my Mom and Dad were looking for the dog like Pocket was, strictly because I was a Whippet mix, too. They studied a lot about dog breed trying to find out what I really was. (Me being abandoned shortly after I was born, I do not know what I am, either.) Consequently, they started to admire the wonderful quality of all those sighthound dogs.