I adopted Roscoe from the local kill shelter on 12/29/03. He was about 6-months old at the time. I had just adopted my first dog Marley and wanted to get him a play mate. I remember telling myself that I wasn't going get a pit bull.
Once I got to the shelter I looked around and decided on another, older black lab. On my way out, I passed a cage with the young crazy brindle dog that was standing on his hind legs and barking at me to get my attention. I head over to the cage to greet this crazy guy, and well, the rest is history. As they say, he chose me and he wasn't going to let me leave without him.
I don't know about Roscoe's background prior to adopting him. I do know that he was likely abused and kicked, as he would freeze in horror and pee all over the place anytime I raised my voice or he thought he was in trouble. It took almost 2 years for him to get over that.
Aside from tearing a hole in my new couch, Roscoe literally never did anything wrong. He was just a simple, proud little dog that was comfortable in his routine. Over the years he lost a ton of weight and slowed down quite a bit. But he still went for his walks every day.
It all happened so quick, yet was expected. Monday 6/27/17 was his last walk and visit to the park. He could barely keep up and was clearly not enjoying it anymore. After a couple of days he went to the vet and tests came back as kidney failure. He fought real hard and made it a few more days, but could barely stand and couldn't keep any food down.
Roscoe crossed Rainbow Bridge on Sat. 7/1/17 at 4pm. He died in my arms.