It's Hard to be a Pickel When Everyone Thinks You're a Dog!

<p>Pickel was supposed to be a Frenchie. But when I saw the deplorable conditions he was in I scooped him up and hurriedly made the six-hour drive home. He was so little just nine ounces and his eyes were not even opened yet and feeding every hour with a dropper. It didn't take too long before we realized that Pickel was not a Frenchie but I had grown so in love with him that it didn't matter. God had truly sent me a precious gift to distract me from my grief. This little creature needed me and I needed him. Along with the love of Jesus Christ Pickel gives me a reason to smile and to press forward. God knows exactly what we need.</p><p></p><p>When asked what breed of dog he is we just reply He's not a dog he's a Pickel!</p>