I’m told I was the pick of the littler. Or I could have been the one no one wanted. Either way, I was the last one left, and I was perfectly happy in Montana with my mom, my grandma and my cousins.
I don’t know why I was chosen to help create a service program for Young Angels, but here I am, in L.A. I might become a therapy dog, or maybe a competitive water jumper. I haven’t picked my major yet.
Right now, it seems overwhelming. I’m keeping this journal to share what I’m learning from my canine teachers and what I’m teaching my humans.
Young Angels Dog Blog 