My dog's story starts when I was no more than four years old. My mother had wanted a guard dog, so she found a litter grand-sired by her best dog, Fella. I remember driving to the place and asking to go inside to see the puppies. My mother had said yes. She led me into what seemed like a large cement garage. There was a white fence only a few feet tall but I had to jump to see over. Finally, I asked to hold a puppy. My mom set me in the fence and I picked up each puppy. I rolled each onto their backs but they rolled back onto their tummies or crawled out of my arms. The last puppy I picked up was the runt of the litter. When I rolled her onto her back, she reached up and licked my face. I knew I wanted her. I asked my mom and she said we'd see about getting her. I later learned that she had reserved my puppy for me. I remember driving home filled with hope. I do not remember the drive back, but I know I was told to wait in the car, a Suzuki. My mom came back out carrying a green cat carrier. She opened up my door and set the carrier on a thing in the way back. I asked her if she had gotten my puppy. The reply was to look and see. I turned around in my booster seat to look through the thin silver bars. Two black noses poked out! I asked to hold my puppy and my mom said I could until Capone, the other pup, started whining. I held her and enjoyed tons of kisses, and I decided to name her Cuddles because of how cuddly she was. I put her back when my mom told me to and held her several more times on the way home. I think this was the best time of my life. I have no memories of them for the first year or so. I remember that my mom had started trying to train the puppies when they reached a few moths old, however. My dog had refused to listen to her and to learn a thing. I remember Mom saying to me, "Capone's training is going well, but Cuddles won't listen to me." Meaning that she thought my dog was hopeless. "That's fine." I said. "I'll train her when she's old enough." I began my training with Cuddles about three years later. She had calmed down quite a bit from her puppy hood, and she was eager to learn. I started with simple tricks, then went further into more complex ones such as "Give me kisses" and "Dance with me". She was a fast learner, even though she received no treat after a completed trick, just a praise and a pat or hug. I taught Cuddles over 36 tricks in over a three year time period. About a year and a half ago, we were so badly poor that we couldn't afford two dogs. We gave Cuddles, much to my obligation, because Capone was my mom's dog and getting rid of him was against the rules. I cried when we gave the person my dog. They told me not to worry, she was in good hands. I didn't. About six months later, we were driving through the town where my dog was. My mom let us stop to visit her. We pulled into the driveway of a blue-gray house. I jumped from our truck, an S-10, to see a large chain-link fence. Four dogs were inside it-two huge Huskies, my dog, and a tiny little Rottweiler mix breed. The tiny dog had cuts and scrapes and punctures and was just fat enough. I reached through the fence to pet the tiny dog and my girl. I cried out in horror when I saw the cuts on my dog too. But my dog wasn't plump. She was so skinny you could count her ribs. My mom pounded on the door, and when nobody answered again, she came over and looked for a way out of the fence. The only one connected to the house's back door. We wrote a note, stuck it under the door, and drove away with tears in our eyes. While we waited for a response, I remembered the two litters of puppies Cuddles had given birth to. In the first batch, only one pup survived, and it grew fur the same colors and markings as Cuddles. The second batch two lived, with one stillborn puppy. I felt sorry for the stillborn, but i payed attention to the two beautiful replicas of Cuddles to keep my mind of it. It would have been a boy. Her first puppy was a boy, who we named Brute, and the other two were a boy and girl who we let the new owners name. At long last, my mom told me that a surprise waited on the Sunday two weeks from then. I tried to guess what it was, but even if I got is right she said she wouldn't tell me so. Those two weeks were painfully long. I often wondered about my dog, hoping she was the surprise. I strayed away from my school work to the memories of her licking my face, following my every command, and walking at my side. I decided I'd never give another pet away again. When Sunday came, we drove to McDonald's and waited. Earlier that day, my mom had picked out a gold cross necklace and put it in a velvet box. When a blue van drove into the parking lot and back in beside us, my mom opened her door and got out of our Dodge car. The van door opened, and my dog leaped down with a teenager holding her leash! The girl was crying quietly, and she gave me Cuddles lead. I bent down and Hugged my dog while getting smothered with huge licks on my face and arms. A middle-aged lady climbed down from the driver's sea of the van and came around the front of the vehicle to us. My mom gave her the necklace and she told us that they'd gotten Cuddles fixed. My eyes widened in utter terror when I found a gash the size of a golf ball on Cuddles throat though. My mom bent down and looked at her, then, pretending to be fine, told me not to say anything in a whisper. She stood back up and continued talking with the lady. When we got into our car, all my fears burst out the second our doors slammed shut. Mom told me that Cuddles would be fine and she'd make it through, but she later told me that this was to convince herself of the same thing. When we got home, I raced to get a bottle of peroxide and some cotton balls. Her cheek was also swollen and filled with puss, so we had to reopen a few wounds on her to drain the infection. It was a time of much pain for my girl. Each night, Cuddles layed on my bed with me after we cleaned her wounds. I felt so sorry for her. During this time, we were also trying to get her a bit heavier. Her ribs were still jutting out, and she was eating very little. We gave her worm remover, though only a little bit, and a week or two later she began to gain weight. After months of healing, my dog made a full recovery. Her scar healed into a Y, or a wishbone shape. I began training Cuddles for agility about two months after the fur grew over her scar. She eagerly and quickly learned everything I taught her. She took in jumps, chutes, tunnels, pause tables, and weave poles within a few month's time. Now, my dog is seven years old. The tip of her muzzle is white and her moist black nose has pinkish black spots on it. She eats when she feels hat no other creature will try to steal her food thanks to the people we gave her to. We both love each other and would both give our lives for each other. This is her long story, filled with love and sadness, pain and happiness.This is what has defined Cuddles and what has defined me. I love you Cuddles.