We've got three rescues, and although all of them visit the shop from time to time, none of them are really shop dogs. I have enough trouble keeping from tracking chips and dust into the house myself, I don't need their help, too.
This is Sasha, a.k.a. Boo-Boo. She was my dog before LOML and I moved into the same house. She's the smart one of the three. She enjoys being "on command" and works with both verbal commands and hand signals. She wants to be the boss of everyone, but she still knows Mom and Dad have the final word. We're not sure what breeds she's got in her. I tell folks she's a purebred Yellowdog.
This is Dakota, a.k.a. Bud. He was originally LOML's dog, but after we all moved in together, he definitely became a Daddy's Boy. He's my best buddy ever, and I'm his world. He's a clown in a dog outfit, and although he's big, he gets along well with everyone and everything. Cats and squirrels may think he's chasing them, but he's really just trying to go meet them face-to-face. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he's a big lover and my favorite dog ever. We're not sure what breed(s) he is, but he looks most like a Hovawart, a pretty uncommon German breed.
And this is Phoenix, aka Fuzz, our latest rescue. Although we got Sasha and Dakota from rescue organizations, Phoenix found us himself. One weekend morning the neighbor across the street came over to tell us we had a dog under our front hedges. I'm convinced he had crawled under the bushes to die. He was emaciated, missing about half of his fur, and had multiple large open sores where he had chewed himself raw from itching. He could barely stand or walk. I've never seen an animal that close to death come back, but he did. With the help of numerous vets and some generous friends, he got a new lease on life with us. According to DNA testing, he's pretty much purebred Akita, although he's a lot skinnier than any I've seen. He's our "special needs" child. He's deaf, has a chronic skin condition that causes him to itch like mad sometimes, he has immunity deficiencies that make him very susceptible to infections, his joints are underdeveloped (the vets guess he was malnourished as a puppy) so he walks with a goofy gait. He gets more medications in a month than I've taken in the last 5 years. He also doesn't understand "dog language", so he doesn't abide by typical "pack rules", much to Sasha's chagrin. (We have to keep them separated when we're not home.) Despite being weak and slow-moving, his Akita genes kick in when he sees a strange dog, and he often wants to fight. He's usually off in a little world of his own. If I had to pick a human condition to compare to, I'd say he's autistic. He is LOML's baby, and she smothers him with love. He also thinks Dad's pretty cool. I think he likes to hang out with me just to get away from all the smooches LOML gives him.