It was 2001, my beloved bulldog had died a year before and I knew the right dog would come along when it needed me. I was driving home one afternoon and saw a dog running near the road side. If he'd turned just right, he could've gotten near a fence that led to the freeway. I pulled over and called for him and he ran right to me and hopped into my backseat! He was a German Shorthaired Pointer. I put a sign on my mailbox referring to "found dog." Late that night, the owners called me. They were renting a farm house nearby and said, "He's been chained to the dog house for 5 years since we got him as a pup. If you want him, you can have him." I actually said I wanted to think about it overnight and let them take him home, I didn't sleep and called them about 7:00 am to say, "bring him back!" He lived with me there for about 4 years. I then met my husband, Greg, and we moved into a small apartment for a less than a year (Artis didn't love the 2nd floor, no yard, living with 2 cats livestyle), then moved into our current home with him. He lived 9 years with us surviving life with a new puppy, 2 more cats, a twisted gastro emergency surgery, a scratched cornea and finally, liver failure in December 2010. He once knew a wonderful place called "dog park" which he enjoyed immensely. He gave us joy, laughter, companionship, loyalty and most of all, LOVE. He was a wonderful soul, a deep lover of tennis balls and had an enormous respect for a comfy couch. He will forever live in our hearts as the most wondeful dog we knew.