About two weeks ago, I was waiting for my girlfriend to pick me up from work. She called me, (which she never does) to tell me she'd found a puppy on the side of the road with his mouth taped shut. She said he needed us, and we could take him to the shelter tomorrow (since we have too many pets). She picked me up, and the poor thing was coated in fleas, skinny, with a belly full of worms. He was only about five weeks old, too. We've given him regular soakings in Dawn since then to combat the fleas, since he's the only animal in the house not on flea medication yet. He still has a few, but is doing much better. He's also been wormed, and is starting to pick up weight. My girlfriend's older dog, Sophie, is seven, and has a brain tumor. We were planning to get my girlfriend a puppy at some point, because she's unhappy without a dog, and if she waited until after Sophie passed, she'd be too miserable to want to get one for a while. This little guy... Just kind of fell into our laps, and I couldn't make her give him up. Sophie also loves him, she likes to mother him. Meet Zeus.