About 12 or 13 years ago, my daughter talked me into getting her a dog.
We headed to the pound and found this one pictured below taking a nap. Half dachshund, half big dog (take yer pick).
He's 35 pounds with 2" of ground clearance. His tail even drags on the ground. Funny looking.
They said he was about 3 years old when we got him, hard to say but he wasn't a pup.
She said, "I'm going to name him lucky".
I laughed and explained why that's a bad idea, and told her the joke of the old guy describing his dog who is blind, has 3 legs, goes by the name of lucky.
She didn't care, his name was Lucky.
13 years later she's off to college, he's pretty much my dog now.
And yes, he's earned the name.
About 5 or 6 years Ago he completely lost his sight. He's about 99% deaf, he's had 3 cancer surgeries and one hip surgery and had been under general anesthesia 6 times total.
He's cost me a fortune, but he's my buddy and I can't put him down.
I can tell he's getting sick again, I'm feeding him everything in the house and he's starting to loose weight again.
This might be it.
he's a good dog.
