It was December, 1997. Holly and I had been married for just about six months and Holly tells me she wants to get a dog. A samoyed, in fact. I told her I wasn’t ready for a dog — I wasn’t ready to give up some of the freedoms I enjoyed not having the responsibility of taking care of a dog (feeding, walking, watching, …).
Lucky for me, I was vetoed. Holly insisted we get a dog and we went to a breeder to look at the new puppies. That’s when we found Cali. Who knew how much happiness that beautiful fluffball would bring to Holly and I and anyone that ever came in contact with her.
A couple weeks ago Cali stopped eating. A lot was going on at our house with Holly traveling and me traveling and it’s not too uncommon for Cali to get stressed and not eat as much as normal. But she was hardly eating at all. We started to get concerned and took her to the vet.
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