I was moving off to college and I decided I wanted a dog. Even though I was not allowed to have a dog, I went to the animal shelter anyways to go look. I told them I was looking for a dog that would grow to be under 40 pounds because that was the weight limit for dogs at the apartment I was living in. The man brought me to the back where all the dogs were and showed me a couple of different dogs.

Then I saw some puppies that were super adorable but was told they would get big, so I kept looking. That's when I saw two puppies, one was black with white on its chest and paws and the other was tan with white on its chest, in a kennel by the puppies that I was told would get too big. I immediately fell in love with both puppies. The guy knew and told me I could bring one back up to the front with me to be able to decide which puppy to adopt.

I took the Black one out first and played with it for a little while, and then I asked if I could see the tan puppy that was in that same cage. The man went in the back and put the black puppy back in the kennel and brought me the other puppy. She was more timid than the other puppy, and she would just rest her head in the palm of my hand. I think that was what made me choose her over the other puppy. She was very skinny, and you could tell she was malnourished. She was literally skin and bones when I first got her.

I filled out the paperwork, while they had to call the vet and make sure that the other dogs we had were up to date on shots, heartworm medicine, and everything else, and they were. So, I gave them my money and could bring my dog home. I was extremely nervous to come home to my mom for her to find out I adopted a dog when I was not even supposed to have a dog because we already have two.

When my mom saw the puppy, she called her ugly and said I had to take her back to the pound. I responded with the pound already closed. She told me that I better take her back tomorrow or she would, so for several days I would take Molleigh-Anne, that is what I named the puppy, out till after 5 so my mom could not take her back to the pound. She even called up there and was very hateful to the workers when it was not their fault because I am old enough to do what I want, and that's almost exactly what they told my mom.

My dad was brought into this, and I ended up getting kicked out of my mom's house over a dog, so I ended up staying in my granny's empty house that is now my dad's house after she died. My mom and I had nothing to do with each other for almost an entire month, maybe even more. My dad and I could tell Molleigh-Anne was sick because she was coughing up yellow mucus everywhere and would not eat or drink anything. After a couple of days of forcing food or drink down her throat, my dad told me to take her to the vet because he did not think she would make it much longer. When I took her to the vet, we were not even seen by the actual veterinarian but two nurses who barely examined her and told me she had kennel cough.

They gave me medication for kennel cough, and I treated her for almost over a week and she was not getting any better. So, I brought her down to the co-op to tell one of my dad's good friends who work there to ask what I needed to do because she was the one who went with me to the vet. She said to give it a few days and if she still does not get better take her back and I told her I wanted to see a different vet. A couple days went by and she was still doing horrible, so I called my mom and asked her if she would go with me to the vet, and she said yes.

I told the vet it was not kennel cough because the other vet gave her medication for that and it was not working. The vet just said she had upper respiratory problems and gave me a different medication and told me if she still wasn't eating by a week that she was not going to make it, and that he did not think she would make it.

It was halfway through the week and Molleigh-Anne started eating, so I called the vet to let him know. He told me to keep feeding her and when she got in better health to bring her back up to get her shots, and if anything happens to keep him informed. She still was not acting like a puppy though, she was not running around, or chewing anything up. It took a lot of time, but Molleigh -Anne is a healthy playful pup, and is now 6- months old, and was totally worth it. She is everything I wanted in a dog.