There is a special place in the heart of most humans – it’s not the place where romance lives, it’s not the source of passion or lust, it’s not even the spot where sentimental first kisses are remembered – it’s the memory we have of our first pet …

the pet we loved but never walked, the dog we cuddled but didn’t clean up after, the Irish Setter (or Labrador, or Golden Retriever, or Basset Hound, or or or …) we begged our parents to let us have, and then once we did, well… it was part of the family, but not a part we really needed to take care of. The dog would eat slippers (or really expensive Italian shoes), sneak entire veal roasts off the stove, even chase the mailman down the lane… and we’d pat it distractedly, scratch behinds its ears, and beg it to hand us a paw…

Dogs have always been a part of my life – I grew up with them, always had at least one in my home, and honestly feel that without a dog, I am somehow lost. My dogs – most of them, at least – become essential, and eternal and loved beyond any reasonable measure.

My dogs were lucky: they were loved, they were fed, and they lived long and happy lives. There are lots of canines that aren’t quite so fortunate – and for some of those, there is a club called the Underdogs. Started by a woman who is even crazier about dogs (or in general) than I am, it aims to place dogs that have been abandoned, orphaned, lost or left and it does so with humor, with diligence and with great compassion. These posters were created to support the Underdogs – all the money from poster sales is donated back to the organization.

The rescue that lives in my home is called PerceE (yes, that’s how he spells his name). He is a mostly-Lab, and endearingly well-meaning, but dense. He loves us and we do him, but I am never quite sure that between his ears is anything other than a big question mark labeled “FOOD???”. He loves tennis balls, marrow bones and anyone who will pat him … and we love him enormously.