I’ve grown up with dogs all of my life. I’ve had two large dogs and I currently have two small dogs. I love my dogs, and I couldn’t imagine my life without them. Each one has their own amazing personality. They are adorable, cuddly, and most of all, they are good protectors.

My first dog was named Bojo (pictured above). He was a German Shorthair pointer and an American Eskimo mix. He was 16 years old when he was put down. My mom had this dog before she had my older brother. He was probably the best first dog a person could ask for. Growing up I would lay on him and he was always willing to eat my dinner for me. One memory that has stuck with me until this day is when these two dogs down the street, that were abused, came and attacked my little sister and I. We were on our way to the store with my dad and these dogs came out of nowhere. My little sister was in between the screen door and the wood door and I was in between the trash can, we both were screaming bloody murder and crying our eyes out. My dad was trying to push the dogs back with a snowshovel. My mom could hear my little sister banging on the door and Bojo was going crazy and barking at the front door. My mom finally opened the front door. That’s when Bojo, who was 14 years old at the time, came flying out the door and he chased the two dogs down the street. My mom was yelling at him to stop and he never disobeyed her except this time and chased those dogs all the way down the street. He protected us, even though he could barely walk for two day afterwards because of his bad hips. He always put us first and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him.