A year ago today I went to a dog shelter in rural Ontario and picked up this:
He was scraggly and scrawny with a bad case of kennel cough, but I loved him already. He cuddled right into my heart and stayed there. Whiskey was brought up to Canada from a pound in Ohio because if he stayed there he was going to be put to sleep. I still can't believe that this little fella almost didn't make it.
Now looking back on the past year, I think of all the places that he has been and the things that he was done.
He's always up for an adventure, whether its our weekly trip on the train to visit my family for dinner, or just a car ride to Tim Horton's for coffee and Timbits.
He visited the Atlantic Ocean for the first time when we went to Maine last summer.
Lets just say that he wasn't so crazy about the cold, salty water...
....he prefered to stay close and cuddle in a towel.
He visted Historic Quebec City and sat atop a cannon.
He became best friends with a crazy doberman named Shadow.