Nothing and nobody compares to a rescue dog…possibly to any dog, but especially to a rescue dog.  Atticus is now almost eight (or so we surmise), and has been with us for the past seven years.  We found Atticus, like our prior dog Maizy, on,  Coincidentally, Atticus shares many characteristics of Maizy:  he was emaciated and had dry skin when we got him, he loves food and is an absolutely Houdini when it comes to making food disappear from the counters, he loves his barn-mates, and (unlike Maizy) he can run like the wind.  Words–at least my words-can’t do Atticus justice.  Anyone who has ever had a dog or loved a dog knows what I mean.

He loves adventure…

And everything outdoors.


He’s our coach…



He’s Dad’s football watching buddy:


And he’s our sous chef (especially when flour is involved):


He likes vacations.

And hikes.


And bikes.


And toys.

And he loves his family.

But not as much as his family loves him!



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