His name was Paris.
I was volunteering that the Brooklyn Animal Foster Network two Saturdays ago and was paired with this hunk of a dog. After spending the day with him I found he was a big mush and loved to give kisses. The way it works, if the dogs and cats we take from the pound that day don't get fostered or adopted they go back to the pound and ultimately destroyed. All the animals were taken care of that day except Paris. So off we went to my little studio apartment in Chelsea. I had intentions of adopting him, but a dog of this size really is a lot of responsibility. Luckily I found a great home for him.
Week in review:
-He was very well behaved only chewed my iPod headphone, when he puked it up later saw the black little foam thing, looked like an olive.
-He LOVED the dog park. All the dogs loved him, even this little pug tried to hump him. A little French Bull dog had a tug of war match with him. He also was like a mediator, when other dogs were barking at each other he'd go over and check out the action, they would then disperse at his massive presence.
-I've never been so face to face with dog shit in my entire life!
-People LOVED him, kept asking what breed, where I got him
-He loved to sit on my feet while we were waiting for the elevator, and will always pee on garbage bags
-He loved toys that he could rip apart. I gave him my Muppet Animal doll and he ripped the head off, and I got him a stuffed monkey, the tail went first and the head was just a few stitches away.
-He ate sticks like a real dog!
-He snored like a drunk hook-up
-He cuddled like a boyfriend
What a great friend, I'll miss him but I trust everything worked out as planned. An omen was when the man who wanted to adopt him was named Romeo, which was the name of my very first dog.