What can be said about Georgie that would make you understand how much he was loved. My dad brought him home in January of 1990. A stowaway from a Selah apartment complex, little Goober with his purple painted nails. My mom said “no way” but before you knew it, he was part of the family. He slept in my bed and he left his impressions there too! After I moved out, he tried to sleep with my brother, a few bones later and he was banned. He adopted mom and dad’s bed, frequently growling at my dad when he tried to crawl in, although he was a great “heater” on a cold night. It was apparent that George was mom’s dog. Over the years, George developed certain traits that were undeniable, his ability to recognize certain fingers, his love of chocolate, or his snake killing and hunting efforts. George was a defender of young children, as long as they had food and he never made our vet’s life easy. A muzzle wasn’t even a deterrent.