I keep twelve names in the menageries of my heart. Four of which I only think about as the threnodies play in the recesses of my mind on nights I'd rather forget to keep from the pain. One of which I think of at least once a week even after three years of passing. Another of these names I only think of as I see her. The other six on a daily basis because I care for them. I have only adopted one dog in my life and that was at the age of fifteen. Her name was Roxy and she was a Border Collie-German Shepard mix. Mostly black with a beautiful auburn highlight on her hindquarters and a sprinkling on her face. I loved her more than anything on this planet and still do to this day three years after her passing. Pets were not my ideal form of comfort growing up until Roxy became the exception to this rule. She came house trained which was somehow a miracle in itself because all the other dogs my father brought into the house never became house trained due to his principle that it's not his job to train them they should know better. Roxy was my slight reprieve amongst all the chaos the other dogs created on a daily basis. From my parents' arguments about them to my siblings and me constantly trying to care for them the best we knew how to, my dad made me and my siblings walk the dogs for hours because one of them went inside again and I did not clean it up before he didn't see it. So my lack of love for animals came more from resentment for other reasons than I just didn't like them. Roxy just made me happy on a daily basis because she didn't make me angry for having so many pets, but just enjoyed being home with somebody that didn't make me feel like every day was a punishment for not caring for pets I didn't want. I originally adopted Roxy out of spite because my dad breaded the dogs he brought home. I thought it would be ironic to have an unwanted dog that people could get for 50 dollars instead of the thousands my father sold his American Kennel Club (AKC) perfect dogs that he barely cared for. She still is to this day why I care for those dogs. After her passing, I found even more comfort in those dogs because Roxy opened my heart to them. More than I could even express that was possible. These dogs just like humans don't choose their owners just like we don't choose our parents. They are still deserving of love and proper care. Now at the tail end of their years, they can't breed anymore. They are still deserving of love and be adequately cared for in their older years. For the betterment of these dogs and my own need to self-sustain myself I need to go back to school to get certified in a field I know I would enjoy doing and still be able to help support the health care needs of these dogs that my mother solely cares for now. Help me to help care for these dogs and hopefully show others that unwanted fifty-dollar animals can help and save you from your mental turmoil instead of a thousand-dollar dog.

I keep twelve names in the menageries of my heart. Four of which I only think about as the threnodies play in the recesses of my mind on nights I'd rather forget to keep from the pain. One of which I think of at least once a week even after three years of passing. Another of these names I only think of as I see her. The other six on a daily basis because I care for them. I have only adopted one dog in my life and that was at the age of fifteen. Her name was Roxy and she was a Border Collie-German Shepard mix. Mostly black with a beautiful auburn highlight on her hindquarters and a sprinkling on her face. I loved her more than anything on this planet and still do to this day three years after her passing. Pets were not my ideal form of comfort growing up until Roxy became the exception to this rule. She came house trained which was somehow a miracle in itself because all the other dogs my father brought into the house never became house trained due to his principle that it's not his job to train them they should know better. Roxy was my slight reprieve amongst all the chaos the other dogs created on a daily basis. From my parents' arguments about them to my siblings and me constantly trying to care for them the best we knew how to, my dad made me and my siblings walk the dogs for hours because one of them went inside again and I did not clean it up before he didn't see it. So my lack of love for animals came more from resentment for other reasons than I just didn't like them. Roxy just made me happy on a daily basis because she didn't make me angry for having so many pets, but just enjoyed being home with somebody that didn't make me feel like every day was a punishment for not caring for pets I didn't want. I originally adopted Roxy out of spite because my dad breaded the dogs he brought home. I thought it would be ironic to have an unwanted dog that people could get for 50 dollars instead of the thousands my father sold his American Kennel Club (AKC) perfect dogs that he barely cared for. She still is to this day why I care for those dogs. After her passing, I found even more comfort in those dogs because Roxy opened my heart to them. More than I could even express that was possible. These dogs just like humans don't choose their owners just like we don't choose our parents. They are still deserving of love and proper care. Now at the tail end of their years, they can't breed anymore. They are still deserving of love and be adequately cared for in their older years. For the betterment of these dogs and my own need to self-sustain myself I need to go back to school to get certified in a field I know I would enjoy doing and still be able to help support the health care needs of these dogs that my mother solely cares for now. Help me to help care for these dogs and hopefully show others that unwanted fifty-dollar animals can help and save you from your mental turmoil instead of a thousand-dollar dog.

I keep twelve names in the menageries of my heart. Four of which I only think about as the threnodies play in the recesses of my mind on nights I'd rather forget to keep from the pain. One of which I think of at least once a week even after three years of passing. Another of these names I only think of as I see her. The other six on a daily basis because I care for them. I have only adopted one dog in my life and that was at the age of fifteen. Her name was Roxy and she was a Border Collie-German Shepard mix. Mostly black with a beautiful auburn highlight on her hindquarters and a sprinkling on her face. I loved her more than anything on this planet and still do to this day three years after her passing. Pets were not my ideal form of comfort growing up until Roxy became the exception to this rule. She came house trained which was somehow a miracle in itself because all the other dogs my father brought into the house never became house trained due to his principle that it's not his job to train them they should know better. Roxy was my slight reprieve amongst all the chaos the other dogs created on a daily basis. From my parents' arguments about them to my siblings and me constantly trying to care for them the best we knew how to, my dad made me and my siblings walk the dogs for hours because one of them went inside again and I did not clean it up before he didn't see it. So my lack of love for animals came more from resentment for other reasons than I just didn't like them. Roxy just made me happy on a daily basis because she didn't make me angry for having so many pets, but just enjoyed being home with somebody that didn't make me feel like every day was a punishment for not caring for pets I didn't want. I originally adopted Roxy out of spite because my dad breaded the dogs he brought home. I thought it would be ironic to have an unwanted dog that people could get for 50 dollars instead of the thousands my father sold his American Kennel Club (AKC) perfect dogs that he barely cared for. She still is to this day why I care for those dogs. After her passing, I found even more comfort in those dogs because Roxy opened my heart to them. More than I could even express that was possible. These dogs just like humans don't choose their owners just like we don't choose our parents. They are still deserving of love and proper care. Now at the tail end of their years, they can't breed anymore. They are still deserving of love and be adequately cared for in their older years. For the betterment of these dogs and my own need to self-sustain myself I need to go back to school to get certified in a field I know I would enjoy doing and still be able to help support the health care needs of these dogs that my mother solely cares for now. Help me to help care for these dogs and hopefully show others that unwanted fifty-dollar animals can help and save you from your mental turmoil instead of a thousand-dollar dog.