In poetic literature, Zephyr refers to a soft, gentle breeze. The dog in front of me however is more of a whirlwind – in the past five minutes alone, he has jumped on the bed, knocked over a glass of water and been smacked and sent to the corner by his mistress. A sickly Indian puppy with a brutally broken front leg, Zephyr was taken home by a college volunteer to be fostered till he healed.
Ofcourse, one thing led to another and Zephyr never left. Now 3 years old, Zephyr is confident, pampered and a far cry from the puppy that left us. Despite his one deformed front leg, he is super fast and absolutely adores his mistress who nursed him back to health (and as for her, let’s just say if you have a problem with her dog you can show yourself out.). If only others were as lucky!
I couldn’t have described him better myself!