We sold our little pug Frodo after deciding it wasn’t fair to him to be locked up in his cage 8-12 hours a day. The poor pup had no stability because Beck was taking him back and forth between here and Lexington, so proper paper training was not possible.

Beck cried so hard when we took him to the pet store  to be sold. She kept saying, "He looks so little," after they put him in the display case. She was right: He did. He was ok with it, I think, because he immediately started rooting around in the shredded newpaper and throwing it in the air.

The lady at the pet store called the next day to say that he had been sold. The people who bought him weren’t even in there to get a dog, but the little guy charmed his way into their hearts by pawing at the glass and hopping up and down. The lady knew the people and said they were well off with a big house and fenced in yard. So, Frodo has literally moved on to greener pastures. He has probably forgotten us, but we will never forget him.