On Saturday, December 5th, 2009, while living in Le Petit Village, Gregory and I headed out in search of a Christmas tree. Somehow along the way, we found ourselves at the animal rescue center instead.

The rescue center was full of dogs and only one puppy. I wanted an older dog, one who had already been trained and didn't have much hope of adoption, but the woman that worked there was adamant we take the puppy. I took one look at him and knew he was ours.

He was a three month old half Staffordshire, half Belgian Shepherd (we think... there could be a bit of Lab in there too) that Gregory Christened, Fifty. Fifty and his siblings had been abandoned in a box inside a dumpster. Luckily, someone found them and brought them to the rescue center.

That first night, we gave him a bath and he slept for eight hours straight. He hasn't slept through a night since. He is at times the bane of my existence but always my furry little angel and after enduring the extra-long journey from Le Petit Village to Texas, he is now enjoying his new life in America.

For more about Fifty, click here, or you can friend him on Facebook, or catch up with him on his mommy's Instagram.

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