In one of my previous posts I talked about the little “who knows what” dog that I rescued when he was just itty-bitty. Yes, I said I’d give him a chance at life, but that was it. No long-term commitment. Nothing permanent. No problem. I DID end up having to give him a name, simply because I had to call him SOMETHING! What was I going to say when I called him? Here mutt-mutt? Here little stray dog that I’m not keeping? That just wasn’t cutting it. So I called him Micah.
As I describe in my previous post, he is quite a little spitfire, and has been from the get-go. In the back of my mind I kept thinking - I’m going to have to find someone who will be up to the challenge of keeping this little dude in line. But who? I didn’t have a problem with the concept of letting him go, but the new owner/family would have to be just right. (A pretty common problem among rescue people, I hear).
Well, much to my surprise (NOT), my husband had grown attached to him, and expressed an interest in keeping him. He’s pretty much a softie when it comes to the dogs. I hadn’t let myself get (too) attached to him - since it was always my intention to re-home him. But I must admit, I felt more than a little relieved to know that we were. . . um. . . well. . . keeping him. After all, he was pretty cool.
Once the decision was made, it didn’t take long for him to worm his way into my heart. He’s already one of my all time favorites.
Try as we might to come up with a breed for him, we have finally settled on “terrier mix”. There’s no ILP’ing this one. Try if you like. I’d be interested if anyone has a serious opinion. 
And so, our journey has begun with the scruffy little black thing called Micah. It may well be a bumpy ride, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be dull.
Stay tuned.
