I have mentioned Zoe, my rescue Bichon, before. She is five. For the past three years she was kept in a cage 12 hours a day, muzzled so that she would not bark. When she whimpered, they would hit her. A friend of the family was able to get the dog, and put it up for adoption. I wanted a big dog, some fat-footed, jowl-faced, long legged hulk of a dawg. I ended up with a 13 pound poochette.

There are dogs everywhere in California. In San Diego, specifically in my sister's Ocean Beach neighborhood, there seems to be a dog for at least every other human being. It's kind of crazy. Chihuahuas take on boxers at the farmer's market. Dogs are on(and occasionally off) leash in just about every store. There are Frosty Paws (tm) in a freezer case at the ice cream shop so they can have their treat while the humans do.

"If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog."- Harry TrumanCalvin Coolidge went above and beyond the call, reportedly owned a pygmy hippo and a wallaby, but I'm ashamed to say that I don't know enough about his presidency to know if that says anything about his track record. (That may say enough, actually - with those kinds of animals on your mind, what time do you have left to run the country?)

I had the greatest dog in the world. I think it's important that I start this out that way, just because I can, and because it's true. Of course yours is the greatest, too - to you. (Please insert whatever meaningful animal in your life in the "dog" space, and if you don't like them or don't have them, pick something else or pretend. It'll be good for you, I promise.)

Although I'm tempted to start off Pets, 2008 BlogHer-style with an in-depth analysis of how and why Internet commenters mistakenly killed off blogosphere dog rockstar Chuck because Heather (aka Dooce) and Jon Armstrong got a new (adorable, oh dear, so cute) puppy, I will not.

For those who follow the progress of North Shore Animal League America's famous Chihuahua trio, Venus, Carmen and Pablo, there's news: these charming dogs, born without their front legs and rescued by the League from a Virginia shelter, now have front-wheel drive, in the form of carts that will assist their mobility.

It might be said that there are two kinds of people in this world: those who put antlers on their tiny dog at holiday time, and those who don't.

We're thinking about getting a dog, or a cat, or both. I can't decide. In my surfing around for adoption opportunities, I came across the incredible story of Pali Boucher, the founder of Rocket Dog Rescue in San Francisco.

I'm tempted to focus solely on "Why dog fighting is bad" this week, because it's weighing heavy on a lot of minds, including my own. There's a lot more going on in the world of domestic and companion animals that I'd like to share, though, so a round-up is the way to go. That said, dog- or any other kind of animal - fighting IS bad, and the more reports I see on this issue, the more charged up about it I get. There are 52,546 Technorati hits on "Michael Vick" alone as I type this, meaning my eyes are crossing and all synapses simultaneously firing.

Food blogger Christine of My Plate or Yours lost her dog Gina last week. She's grieving and pondering -- and writing with grace about loss and life's passage.