“We had a little Maltese for thirteen and a half years. He was really my daughter’s dog.
He died in my arms.
I was surprised. I thought I would want a dog right away, but it took me two years to get over the grief.
Then I started looking into rescuing another Maltese, or something small and white. We were vetted by several rescue organizations. It was harder than adopting a child.
I was searching rescue sites and I kept seeing older dogs. It was too fresh to think about losing another dog.
I met a fabulous dog rescuer at my local diner and told her my story, and she said, I will look for you.
She called me about a month or so later and said she had a dog for me.
She was sponsoring a rescue event and I had to be there at 2:00. I got there at 2:10 and the dog was gone.
I sat down and cried. I was sitting by a cage filled with small puppies and one of them, with brown pools of eyes looked up at me and started licking my hand through the crate.
I took her out of the crate and put her on my chest.
A man walked up the street, saw her laying on me and asked if I was taking the dog. He said if I didn’t take her, he would. I decided in that moment, she was mine.
She is a terrier mix. The rescue group said she would be no more than eleven pounds. She is about fifteen pounds.
She had Giardia and kennel cough when we got her. She was so calm and quiet until the antibiotics cleared up the infections.
That was five years ago.
Since then, she has been a ball of energy. She is, after all, a terrier.
She only had one accident in the house, and that was when she was sick. She will hold it for twelve hours, probably more if I couldn’t take her out.
After a few months we left her with a friend for a weekend and we found out she pulled so hard, she got out of her harness. She runs like a bullet, but she got her back.
She still puts her head on my chest and is a great comfort.”