Shasta is a little animal, a pet. Her quality of life is entirely dependent on me. It is what I make it to be. I don't dress her up, paint her nails and put bows in her hair. I do give her attention. A lot. And take her with me whenever I can. In the car, on the bicycle, she's even been on the motorcycle. I try to include her, make her part of my life, in addition to tending to her needs. She doesn't care whether she rides in a Mercedes or my VW. She doesn't care what her pillows and beds are made of, she knows they're hers in her home.
During my Army service I have been around dog farms while on a field exercise in the South Korean country side where the cries and yelps of hundreds of dogs echoed in the dark night, while beaten, starved, and jammed into tiny cages, fighting to live, just till they got ripe enough to be slaughtered and tenderized and served as a delicacy to the local people. Kegogi, is what they lived to be. Horrifying... I cannot judge, that is their custom, but thank God I don't live there (though they don't eat all breeds, certainly not Maltese, still...)!
When I took Shaz into my arms as her original owner handed her over to me, shaking, wild eyed and nappy haired, I wowed to give her a good life and let her be my little precious. So she is and I wouldn't change that except to take her tormented years away...
Pets are responsibility, joy, and fun and totally dependent on us.
And she will always love me...
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