Harold was born around St. Patrick's Day in 1996. He and his brother had been found wandering the streets of Long Beach as teeny puppies and were turned into the Animal Shelter where I was volunteering.

"Foxy," as he was called, and his brother, "Moxy" had two showings on the Pet Place and still no takers. I'm not a sucker to a sad story, but they were so damn cute and something about them just said I had to rescue them. So I picked them up at the shelter and later that night wondered about the "hole" in my head because they were the absolute worst puppies you can imagine! Way too smart for their own good, and I had never raised a puppy, let alone TWO, before.

Well, long story short, I got them over kennel cough, got their shots and neutered, started on training and with help found a home for little Moxy. By that time, I knew I was keeping "Foxy" and started calling him "Harold" to go with my "Maude." It's a good thing Harold is so sweet and devoted (to a fault) because he continued to be the puppy from hell until about 3 years of age!

Harold has turned into the best dog and my life is much richer because of him. He is a favorite at the dog park and plays with his pals several times each week. He used to hide behind me or under picnic tables to get away from people, but he decided somewhere along the way that people were ok and has become very good at getting attention. He was also one of those kids who must've had a "kick me" sign on his back, because he always got picked on as a youngster! Fortunately, he grew out of that and gets along with almost any dog. I often say that everyone needs a "Harold" in their lives. :-)