Seems like I have always had a dog of some sort. My current dog Jo-Jo is probably about Number 11 in a long line of mutts. As a kid, I was always bringing home some stray that would follow me from the store, playground or school yard.

Jo-Jo did not enter my life until I was older though. My step-daughter, Lisa, adopted Jo-Jo from the local Humane Society. She did so without her husband Joe's agreement.

Turns out, he doesn't like dogs, especially since at the time of his disapproval, Lisa was expecting their first child. Consequently, she asked me to take over ownership of the dog. That's Jo-Jo in the above photo.

I didn't name Jo-Jo...Lisa named her. I once had a brown dog I named Brownie. I once had a black dog I named Blackie. I'm not very good at naming dogs. I have no idea what I would have named this multi-colored mutt. Even though she was named after the guy who doesn't like dogs, it is probably a better name than I would have come up with. Jo-Jo's a good name for a dog, I think.

In my opinion, Jo-Jo is a beautiful dog too. Her natural black eye lashes and black outline around her eyes give her such a sweet, feminine look. Just looking into to those eyes can melt one's heart. This is especially true when I am eating a steak while watching television and she is sitting patiently watching me take each bite. She knows it is just a matter of time before I start sharing part of the steak with her.

Some people might think this sort of thing is crazy. In fact, I know lots of people that think having a dog live in one's house is unhealthy and perhaps even low class. I admit, there are times the dog does seem better suited for outdoors. Jo-Jo sometimes likes to go out into the street where she can find a dead squirrel or road-killed bird and roll in the smell of the rotted carcass. That's not too cool when she decides to come back into the house. Someone once told me dogs do this to disguise their scent, and it is a trait passed down through heredity from when dogs were wild and hunted their own food. A good bath usually eliminates that problem though. Besides, I had a boss once that smelled worse than Jo-Jo.

Bottom line...the dog is one of the family now. And we value her presence as much as we do that of our children. Of course, how I feel about the kids is entirely different. My young daughter does not run anxious circles around me every time I put on my jogging shoes and pick up the car keys. And I hate to say it, but the only family member that is absolutely elated that I have made it home safely driving the one hour in heavy traffic from my office, is my dog Jo-Jo. She meets me at the top of the stairs, her tail wagging, her tongue hanging out while panting, her feet shuffling back and forth from the excitement. It feels so good to be so loved!

One evening, my dog was run over by a car just outside my house. The woman and man involved in the run-over were cutting through our neighborhood at a high rate of speed in two separate cars trying to move household furnishing from their former home to their new home, located just on the other side of our neighborhood. The husband was in the lead car and ran over Jo-Jo as she ran into the street to greet another dog in the neighborhood. After the car struck my dog, she was able to make it back to the front of my house. Jo-Jo was in shock but staring with me with those heart-penetrating eyes, as if to say "Help me...I am dying!"

There is a very modern and well-equipped animal hospital not more than 10 minutes from my house. I carried Jo-Jo to the car; and I quickly drove there.

After the emergency room examination, I was told that her most serious injuries were internal bleeding and a punctured lung. They explained that they would have to make an incision in her chest and allow the pressure to be released. Apparently the pressure can build up and actually constrict the heart so much that it stops beating. They also had to deal with the dog's shock, this alone could be fatal.

This is a hospital, but it is also a profit-center. The personnel have compassion, but they are there to make money. They presented me with an estimate, it was going to cost about $1000 per day with no guarantee how long it would take or if they could save her life. They explained that the first 24 hours were the most critical. That was a lot of money, but I did not hesitate to sign the agreement forms. She was like my child.

As I sat in the waiting room, I called my step-daughter Lisa to tell her what had happened. Soon she and her husband Joe had arrived at the hospital. I could not believe Joe. He was telling me how stupid it was to pay that kind of money for a dog. In my younger days, I probably would have decked someone for saying something like that, particularly in this time of grief and uncertainty. At my age though, I have tempered the way I react. I realized that Joe was brought up in a Lao family that never owned a dog, and viewed them as something on a menu....not a household member.

There are too many morons like this for me to want to beat up on all of them. I have to just tune them out! We are all products of our environment, a sort of mixed cocktail of acquired emotions. Fortunately, my path in life has taught me compassion for every living thing. But I try to understand, if not at least tolerate, those that traveled a different path.

Jo-Jo made it through that first night. She required three more days in the hospital. We went to see her every day. Thank God, they were able to save her life!

I got up early this morning and took her to the track with me. It was so early no one else was there, so I could take off her leash and let her run freely. She has made a full recovery now and she loves to run just like she always did. And I love to have her run with me.

So when is a dog worth $4200? That's what it cost me to bring her home from the hospital. My answer is: "Such a dog is priceless, and I would have paid my last penny to save her life." There is no price tag on such a friendship.

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