Sleek and elegant, with thick black fur that glistens in the sunlight, the once emaciated Belgian shepherd has learned a valuable lesson since he's found his forever home: How to relax.

Lying in the shade on a dog bed with his new best buddy Blondie, two balls and a couple of "fetch sticks" within reach, Kermit appears as if he has no pressing business at hand. He's content to pant and pass the afternoon away in leisure

"He never did that at the shelter," said Mary Martin, executive director of the Santa Fe Shelter & Humane Society, watching Kermit in his new environment. "He never did relax."

It's been more than a month since Dennis Jack and Anne Klosterman brought Kermit home to their expansive property outside Ribera. Before that, Kermit had spent weeks at the shelter regaining muscle mass after being found in March running along N.M. 14 outside Madrid.

Cory Snyder, an off-duty Albuquerque police officer, was one of the first to alert animal-control officers about the malnourished, cactus-encrusted dog. Kermit weighed just 36 pounds when he was rescued, about half of the normal weight for his breed. Most of his fur had fallen out as his body struggled to keep alive.

Officials speculate the dog had access to water but hadn't been fed for weeks. His previous life still remains a mystery.

The dog's plight drew the attention of dozens of well-wishers and supporters who eventually contributed hundreds of dollars to his medical and rehabilitation costs. Kathy Martinez, a shelter adoption counselor and animal behaviorist, fostered him, working on his basic manners and socialization.

The focus eventually caught the attention of Jack, a retired Chicago police officer, and his wife, Klosterman, a pharmacist at Smith's grocery store on Cerrillos Road. Klosterman said that when reading about Kermit's description they felt the dog would be the perfect complement to their other dogs, Blondie, a Northern New Mexico "brown dog," and Gunner, an English springer spaniel.

"He just fit right in," she said on a recent Sunday morning, where a group had gathered on their property to reunite with Kermit. "It sounded like he had the qualities of each dog that didn't work with those two together, so bringing him in really was the glue for Blondie and Gunner."

There was some initial adjustment, Klosterman said, but the three are now a tight, friendly pack. Blondie, who likes to be the boss in the family, even allows him to share her denlike perch on top of a makeshift doghouse.

"It was hardest for Blondie," Klosterman said, "but she's made the transition."

Those who met Kermit when he first arrived at the shelter this spring continue to be amazed at the dog's current condition. One major supporter, Claudie Inoue, who was visiting Kermit with her husband, Stephen, said it was hard to believe that it was the same dog.

"From scruffy, looking like something out of a WWII concentration camp, to shiny, sleek and beautiful," she said. "That's Kermit."

And while the high-energy dog enjoys retrieving balls or sticks, it's not his main pursuit in life.

"It's not an obsession any longer," Jack said. "He's calmed down now. He's got that herding instinct like Gunner. He comes from a herding breed, and he's very good at that."

The dog enjoys hikes around the property, never getting too far away from his new family members. So far, there have been no residual health issues from his ordeal and Kermit's appetite remains consistent, Klosterman said.

"He's eating well," she said. "There have been no problems. He's just a dog; we got him as a dog."

Kermit's a true survivor, Jack said, and doesn't appear to hold any grudge toward humans for his former abuse. In fact, Jack said he thinks Kermit likely never had any trauma, aside from malnourishment. At a recent shelter fundraiser, where Kermit was a featured guest, the dog walked through crowds of people without any problem and allowed strangers to pet, touch and even play with him.

"He's still friendly around people," Jack said. "If he had been abused, I think he would have reacted differently. I think maybe he was just kicked out and abandoned."

An independent sort, Kermit remains true to his breed, a Groenendael, one of four varieties of Belgian sheepdogs. Aside from herding, the breed also has been used as military and police dogs, for drug detection, and for search-and-rescue teams.

Today, Kermit's ultimate job is likely his true calling: Loving companion to an equally loving family.

"He doesn't need a lot of attention," Klosterman said. "Yet he enjoys being around other dogs and us. He's his own person."

As for his past, Klosterman added, that's behind him.

"He takes life as it comes," she said. "What else are you going to do?"

To see more photos of Kermit and his new family, visit Scoop. To see the original story about Kermit's plight, read the story The will to survive.