I was born to a bitch, under an abandon trailer, on a hot June day. The eleventh of eleven siblings with a mother unable to care for us, and an absentee father.

My mother was unable to feed us, and at four weeks of age, I was sent away for adoption. I seem to have a vague memory of myself, and one of my brothers in the back seat of a car. We huddled together with an old teddy bear not sure of our fate.

I was adopted by a middle-aged couple with two teenage children and one small dog. I was held in loving arms and comforted until I felt safe. Food was plentiful and with a full belly each day, I soon grew strong. I knew love, happiness, and contentment but life had more battles for me to face.

At six months of age, I was beaten over the top of my head until I bled. My family was outraged over the event. The persons responsible were fined by law enforcement for their cruelty. My wounds soon healed. My heart however was broken and I had lost trust in all but my family. The doctor said I needed time and tender care to learn to trust others again. My family gave me both.

While playing with a new toy, I accidently swallowed part of it. I had emergency surgery that night. With the help of my family, I recovered, and learned to never chew on my toys again. I was just over a year old.

After that incident things went well for quite a while. The oldest, a son, grew up and moved away from home. I missed laying with him on his bed and watching TV. I longed for our games of baseball in the backyard. No one could hit a ball like he did. I missed him greatly.

At four years of age my family adopted a beautiful one year old blonde girl. She had been abused by her former family. She soon grew and blossomed in our love. Then when I didn’t think anything else could happen, we lost a dear family member. The little dog passed away into heaven from old age. His passing left a hole in all our hearts.

As myself and my little blonde sister grew so did our family. Soon the teenage girl grew up and left to build her own life. The teenage boy, now a man, added two little granddaughters to our family. My blonde sister and I loved to play with them.

Then just when life was going well something bad happened again. I was ten years old when a tumor ruptured in my spleen. I was rushed to the emergency hospital by my family. Life and death were so close they almost merged as one entity. I was ready to give up and cross to the other side, when I felt it. Love. The love of my family and the prayers being said in the waiting room. I knew it was not time to go yet, so I fought for my life and I won.

I will be twelve in a few days and I feel every bit of my age. I still love my walks with my family and I can’t pass up a good game of catch the tennis ball. My black fur is turning grey in places and my legs seem to tire out more quickly than they use to. My new favorite activity is a long afternoon nap. My life is perfect filled with love from my family, and companionship from my best blonde friend, Katie, my sister dog. For the life of a dog, I must say mine has turned out well. Especially considering it all started under a trailer on a hot June day.

Happy Birthday Kole Dog Mace. He will be 12 years old on June 4, 2011. Photo owned by PR Mace

Katie Mae Mace. The blonde sister dog. Photo owned by PR Mace