1989? - January 31, 2000


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Sultan was a working dog. He spent his nights patrolling a factory's grounds and his days locked away. He had very little human contact. When he got too old to be productive at his job he was taken to be put to sleep. We saw his dear old face in a photo in the paper, he was lucky, he had been taken to a no-kill pound.

We brought him home with us, a bewildered, frightened old fellow. He had a bad back and feet from all the years spent patrolling on concrete. We got him trotting around with help from our vet. He tasted food he'd never eaten, chased a ball... very slowly.

Sultan was deaf and almost blind. He loved us and we loved him. He was Shannon's friend. She was desperate the day he died, trying to get him back on his feet by pulling on his collar, then lying down with him and crying. He was with us for three short months. I miss him hopelessly. He was my mate, he was my dog. Run with the angels my gorgeous old boy.

-- Roslyn Roser