He could barely get up on his feet, all lumps and bumps, and appendages sticking out at odd angles. Hardly hearing and not really seeing much, he still greeted you with a wag of his tail.

He was a real "Tiger" among dogs once, in fac t that was his name. You could still see it in the proud way he slowly carried himself.

A pit dog bred, and game to the bone, yet suprisingly gentle with a hand that would scratsh behind an ear. The massive head, though drooping low and grizzled grey around the muzzle, still held a strange power. Give him a thick leather chew square and he could still crunch it like you eating a corn chip.

I guess in so noble a heart and so game a body as his, the awesome jaws are the last thing to go. That and the heart wrenching loyalty and love of so proud a beast as he. Your enemies worst nightmare!

Your best friend!