My partner, Sean, and I had a great black Lab mix named Enzo, he was my baby big time. He saw me through a significant break up and when I left Chicago to move here I, of course, took him. The ex got the house, I got Enzo - to me it was a fair trade.
I brought Enzo to the vet for his yearly shots but he had not been eating. Within 10 min they told me he had an inoperable tumor in the back of his throat. He had to be put down that day. I was a HUGE MESS. I could not leave my bed for a week. Sean dragged me out of bed one Saturday and said lets take a ride to the LA/SPCA; he had gone there the day before although I didn't know it yet.
We toured the various adoption areas and there was only one dog that caught my eye. His name was Murphy on your charts. A two-year-old Chocolate Lab. I saw him and we just stared at each other. I started to cry and walked out. I went in to see him once again. We were told that he was found walking on Elysian fields. He was skinny, very scared and shaking.
I couldn't leave without him. He had to carry him to the car and even into the house because he was shaking and trembling so much. I renamed "Murphy" Mossimo (I am from Italy originally) and after a few weeks Mossimo came around.
The French Quarter Dog Park is a block away from where we live and Mossimo has turned into the king of the Triangle. When we walk him to the park to play with his friends (every morning at 6:30a.m) there is not one stoop he misses to be hugged or given a treat. When we go have a beer after a long day of work the bartender yells for Mossimo as we walk in. He is the first to be served his treats and bowl of water. Everyone has to play with him or pet him.
Bottom line on all this is we saved each other.