Rascle and Riley are getting big. Their original owners have all but given up on them. It's a lost cause now. My landlord would never let them reside on his ground. Here in the summer when the police go around to patrol the dogs, most likely all that will be left is two bitter bloodspots on the melting snow in my front lawn. They're just huge playful puppies- not even full grown dogs. Everytime I walk outside there they are- smiling and running up to collide haphazardly into my side. Then they jump and cry and jump and bite. I've been pulled down more than once. They're less like dogs and more like wolves. I can't help but adore them. They protect my land, they protect me. No visitor can sneak by unknown. It's calming in a way. Even their barks in the middle of the night don't bug me. I merely know that if such a snarl came from the dark shadows of my small caravan walls- no intruder will dare take another step. It's reassuring. I've said it before- I would do anything to keep their company forever. They've become as much a part of my family as my brother. They mean so much to me.
