Freeeeed.

This is good ole Fred. My oldest (full blooded) brother brought him home on Valentines Day many o' years ago. When he was a Freshman at the first college he attended. Fred was a Frat dog, and was abused. He used to be one asshole of a dog, which is understandable considering what he had been through. He used to run around (impregnating female dogs, is our guess). But, he always returned. Today, in his old age, he still runs off. But, again, he always comes home. He spends most of his time in a chair that he has claimed as his. My parents recently got new furniture and somehow think they will be able to keep him off of "his" chair. I doubt they will be successful.