Ollie came to us 3½ years ago.  He had been rescured by the Florida Pyrenees Rescue (a great group).  He was in bad shape: he could barely walk; his jaw had been broken years before; he was so frightened that he would not walk out the front door (and when Ollie “put on the brakes” no one could move him).  He was so frail that we thought that he wouldn’t live more than a few months. But we decided we would make them good months, better than the 5-6 years he had prior to coming to us.
 
He surprised us.  With a good diet, an admiring (albeit somewhat nutso) “sister”, and a little TLC, he gained strength.  He soon became the ardent defender of the back yard, warning any creature (or machine) that dared approach his fence. 

He was an unbelievably good-natured dog.  He was calm, but affable — to us and to anyone we had into our house (or met on our walks).  Those who met him often remarked about how sweet, how noble, he was.  He had a grace and dignity that would be enviable even in a human being, especially since he had had a rough early life.  He enjoyed his all-to-short life; he gave us far more than we could ever have given him.