His name is Walter
There is a local radio station that has a short segment on dogs for adoption. . .
I talked a friend into going into the San Francisco SPCA to just look! I saw this Rottie, but went on to others and eventually wandered back to the Rott.
He was/is a beautiful animal but showed evidence of some abuse. Missing tooth, slightly split tongue, etc. He may have been beaten.
We always had dogs growing up, and raised two sons who had dogs as well. As the "mom", I took care of them, BUT they were the boys dogs and they were very attached to them and visa verse.
We had a Golden, Lab, beagle and mutts, that were an integral part of our family. The boys are grown with their own families and I sort of missed the companionship.
Back to the visit to the SPCA and the Rottweiler - with a tail. We went for a walk, spent some time together and I liked him. I'm not a spring chicken and should have looked at a little poodle BUT...
They had named him Lorenzo - He was a stray from just short of the Oregon border with NO history and no name. I had to prove that I wasn't homeless and went back with a property tax bill for my home and was sent on my way with "Lorenzo".
Somehow, we (my friend and co-conspirator) decided on Walter as his new moniker on the way home. SPCA said he was about 4 years old. My vet thought he was younger. The SPCA thought he was a mix, my vet thinks he's pure.
He was wonderful with me, but very strong and protective, and was a real liability to anyone he didn't know. I had my doubts at keeping him but was already in love at this point.
I Found a wonderful trainer which was absolutely necessary. He was bordered there, and I couldn't visit for a couple of weeks - and then back for 'together' training. Although he still shows a lot of bravado with other dogs (at least with me) he is wonderful with people.
Climbs in the Fed Ex truck as a greeter, which never would have happened before, and welcomes everyone. He's really NOT a watchdog other than deer and the wild turkeys.
This all happened 7 years ago, and anyone that knows him loves him. He has taken over my home and heart. My grandsons love him!
I'm at my desk in my bedroom, and he's sleeping on his bed across the room. Tomorrow morning he'll come over to my bed and nuzzle his nose enough to awaken me. He is MY dog... or, the truth be known, I belong to him.