He was my 10th birthday present. Before having a dog, I had turtles. They kept dying, because of soft shell disease.

Patches was part standard poodle and Commondore. An Hungarian sheep dog.

My parents got him from. Orphans of the Storm, a place for wayward dogs.

He was 8 months old when we got him. He had had many owners. He was wild.

We had a metal chain assembly in our backyard. We called it his, “run.”

He would often break free and go running down the street with his run behind him.

When my mother told me, she was going to divorce my father, one of my main concerns was what would happen to, Patches?

We looked at some apartments that would not take dogs.

My mother ended up buying a condo in rural Illinois.

We had Patches, castratred. Something my Father would not allow.

It calmed Patches down. In many ways, Patches was my only friend up in nowhere, Illinois. We took long walks together.

Didn’t even need a leash.

My Mother decided to move to California. She asked, but no one wanted to take Patches.

He was 10 years old by then. My mom took him back to Orphans of the Storm to be, “put to sleep.”

They didn’t want to do it, because he was healthy.

Forgive me if I end this email with RIP 🪦 Patches