The Mystery of Angus

Our English Lab, Angus, looks up with eyes that resemble tiger eye gems. His black coat almost glows, it’s so shiny. Were it not for one imperfection, I’m sure he’d be a show-stopper.

We want to ask him, “What was your life like before we found you? Where and how did you lose your hind leg?”

He’s pretty good at letting us know what he wants. A squeaky sound means, Hurry up. A woof means, Attention. A rumble means, Let’s play.

But our questions remain largely unanswered.

We got Angus from the humane society. The story is, he was found as a stray wandering about with a crushed leg. What pain he must have endured! A woman took pity on him, we’re told, and paid for his operation. As much as the vet wanted to save his leg, it had to come off. For awhile the society boarded him with a family in the city, but eventually he came to the local society, weak and miserable. He didn’t stay down though and soon became the strongest dog in the facility. We took to him immediately because he was the only quiet dog there, and the eye contact was what sealed our connection.

His manners show he’s been house broken and taught to not steal food. But his manners also make us want to ask, “Were you punished with a rolled newspaper? Did someone squirt you with the hose to punish or tease you? Did someone teach you to play tug-of-war?”

And again we ask, “How did you get your leg crushed?”

By now we have a pretty good idea. He hates any truck the size of a UPS or mail truck and barks in rage at them. Perhaps that’s the best answer we will get.

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