New Adventures

What was I thinking?
Was this my mid life crisis?
With my youngest in full teenage mode, I was feeling a bit out of sorts and neglected. No longer was I needed for simple things. No hanging out. This left a void. I tried to deal with this void, but like a nagging in law, it was always around.
After our needy asshole cat MoJo suddenly passed away in September, I was left with the realization that this void I'm feeling is not going away. Sadie is awesome. Our beloved 9year old lab is way too independent and too much of a daddy's girl.
I'm alone. Enter the Max.
Now his breed is and probably will be an argument for eternity, I wad told he is a chowsky/shepherd, pitbull. He's not a husky. Nor is he a shepherd or chow. I have had owned or experienced these. Pitbull.... gasp! I know NOTHING about this dog other than they get a bad rep.

See. Maximus Glutimus (big ass) or  "Max", was meant for me. Not our family, me. It sounds selfish, but for once I was given the task in life to feel needed and appreciation followed that need.
Max was 12 weeks old when I rescued him.the person I got him from gave me an elaborate story about his abused beginnings from the hand of someone else. I have discovered over this past month, it was probably from the family themselves. Max is high maintenance. If you don't do your research on breeds, buy a fish. I knew nothing of pitbull or boxers as I am a gentle giant dog lover. Not a hard working dog lover. (I have done my homework and seek advice since day 1).
The night I brought my boy home my first thought was conFessor. How was she going to take to another dog. She has always been the only one in her life. Their first encountered memorable.  Her ears perked up and her tail tagged. She was apprehensive yet excited over this mini me version of her. I knew instantly he was going to take A LOT of work and love to make him the dog he truly is. A lover and cuddler.  In month time, I have worked feverishly to house break him. Teach basic commands like sit and stay. Let him know the difference between good touch and bad touch. When he first came here, all touch was bad and he either recoiled in fear or snarled like he was going to attack.

One month. My baby Max loves his humans and his big sister Sadie. In one month, he and Sadie are inseparable.  They rough house. They argue. They cuddle. They share their food. God forbid I discipline Max in front if Sadie. She is right there to stare me down. And yet, never having the chance to raise a litter of her own, Sadie is an excellent mother to him by not letting Max get away with crap.
So now, I have a reason to blog good things again. The void in me is now filled with the tiring, yet amazing adventure of these two books I call my fur babies. My goals for this blog are
1. To share my experience on rehabilitating an abused dog, and getting insight and advice from others.
2. To share this awesome hilarious choice in my life that these two cornballs  have brought into our lives.