But I'm not complaining. I know I've got it made here at Gray Wolf Ranch. The house is toasty inside, I have five acres of grass and woods to roam, and I've trained the staff and residents to toss the Frisbee and scratch my tummy, with only a nudge from me. My days are full - I ride around in the front seat of the van, patrol the grounds for deer and raccoons, and survey the kitchen in hopes of finding a bit of something on the floor. One night I scored half-eaten spinach lasagna right out of the trash and a platter of cookies left on the counter, but the staff has since taken steps to keep that from happening again. Rats!

The residents stick to the rules in the Gray Wolf Handbook, the ones about treating me with respect - no abuse, harassment, or unauthorized feeding - which allows me to live a comfortable dog's life here at the Ranch. And to think that only months ago I was doing time at the canine Criminal Justice Center for bad behavior. You see, I had been mistreated by my former owners and had developed some undesirable habits. Thank heavens the folks from Seattle Purebred Dog Rescue bailed me out and gave me another chance. Although I still have some issues to work out (I'm a Beta Male, after all), being at Gray Wolf Ranch has given me a new lease on life. If there's more that a modest dog could ever want, I haven't thought of it yet!