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For 14 years Pasha had a stable home. However when that stability came to an end, Pasha had to witness her entire world crach all around her. Her ears used to quiver as we packed up the house. We were so sure she had a home to go to once we sold the house—by several offers. They all fell through in the end.
The panty waist husband of the couple who bought the house offered to let Pasha stay in her backyard for a while as I got settled in SF. However by a fluke I got a call from his wife two weeks later who complained about my leaving Pasha in the backyard and annoyed she was that Pasha cried all the time. Pasha’s home was being taken over by monster invaders. You would cry too. Furthermore your pussy of a husband failed to tell you that he gave me permission to keep Pasha on site, until the house was ready to be use. True the wife had the right to tell me to come and get my dog–but not to complain about it. Who knows what would have happened to Pasha of I didn’t a 1.00 left of cell phone time to receive and retrieve that call!
I was so broke that I didn’t even have gas to make it to Vallejo and back to retrieve Pasha. So I made a sacrifice: my Muppet book with signatures from a great deal of the crew members in exchange for the gas money that would save my dog!
I arrived in Vallejo sans my book but equipped with a full gas tank and toll money. I was horrified to find Pasha wandering in the street and sidewalk on our block, crying for what was happening to her garden! I put her in the car (she was so happy to see me) and then went to the backyard to find her leash and belongings amongst the rubble created by the workmen. They were clueless. Just like the house painter who threw away my sculpture and feigned any knowledge if its disappearance the workmen passed the buck and claimed they only did what they were told to do—without discretion. I wanted to kill every one of them! Not to mention that they cut down all of the beautiful trees and quince shrubs of Pasha’s secret garden.
With a heavy heart I took my baby back to San Francisco. Yet, now before getting a mean lecture from my old neighbor and toughest critic of my care of Pasha— at the time. She said that anyone would put Pasha to sleep—especially with her infected legs.
Thankfully once I got to San Francisco, I found someone who recommended Dr. Wong to me, who fixed Pasha right up again and made her beautiful dog, all ready for a new home in the coming months.
Pasha was blessed by twice as many angels than she is by demons.
Keep fighting Pasha!