In 2015, the first dog that I met at my local animal shelter was Cordelia. Or “Cordy” as I called her. She was a beautiful Lab-mix of chocolate brown with caramel-colored markings and gorgeous dark brown eyes. When I saw her I immediately fell in love with her. There was something about her that tugged at my heart. Something that made me love her. I would sit in her kennel with her and talk to her, massaging her ears–which she loved–and rubbing her tummy, which would practically put her to sleep. Rubbing her tummy would send her over on to her back, wanting more. I would take her outside and run with her and walk with her and play with her. I became attached to her and she became attached to me. I tried talking my parents into adopting her for me, but we already had a dog at the time and they didn’t want another one around the house, regardless that she would be mine. And so I continued to visit her each day, until a family of four with two little girls saw her with me one day and asked about her. I told them about her, and I saw immediately the two little girls had fallen in love with her and would love her totally as I loved her, and so I easily persuaded their parents into adopting Cordy for the girls as I told them what she was like: quiet, well-mannered, sweet, playful, loved to run, and give doggie-kisses. (Cordy covered the girls’ hands in doggie-kisses when the girls went up to pet her wagging her tail happily). Since I couldn’t adopt Cordy I made sure she went to a wonderful loving family who would take great care of her. And so Cordy found her “forever home” with two wonderful little girls and their parents.

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