I was walking in the fields the other day when I was overtaken by a strong, intruding thought: I want to adopt a dog. Wait, what? said I to myself. I’d already decided two years ago not to adopt another dog. I tried to put the thought aside, but it stuck with me.

My last rescue dog, Finn, passed suddenly in 2023. Finn’s death deeply saddened me—he was a sweet, special needs dog rescued from horrible conditions in Alabama. He had survived distemper as a puppy—the survival, a rarity—and had gait issues because of it. The “owner” of the 300-dog place from which Finn was rescued was jailed for animal abuse—another rarity. Finn was leery of everyone but family and close friends. There was no meanness to him. He was a gentle presence who emanated kindness and got along fabulously with my two cats.

At the time of Finn’s death, I was in the midst of helping my partner navigate a terminal illness. Overwhelmed by hospital visits, the impending trajectory, and care for my partner, I decided that I would stick only with my cats, who are loving, entertaining, and easy to care for. So sure was I that I had the ugly chain link dog fence, which came with the house when I bought it, removed.

Rescue organization – https://hindeanimalrescueteam.org/ – photos (above and below). Her fur has mostly grown back now.

Two years later came the inconvenient, unbidden recognition that I wanted to adopt a dog. After fighting the urge for a good week, I looked on petfinder.com at rescue dogs known to be friendly with cats. I perused hundreds of adoptable dogs (my god, there are so many rescue animals, including purebreds, that need homes; please consider adoption rather than buying from a breeder). I kept coming back to one and only dog, who met none of the criteria I had in mind. This particular dog is 9 months old (I wanted an older dog), much smaller than I had in mind (I wanted a dog the size of a pit bull or lab), and she was missing patches of hair from neglect, a bacterial infection, and exposure to the winter elements in West Virginia where she and her sisters were tied up, without shelter I believe. But there was something about the pup—maybe the look in her eye?—and I felt some ineffable connection with her. I called the rescue, talked at length to the foster parents, and arranged a “meet and greet” visit at my home. It went very well, and she was very respectful of the cats.

I pick up the pup in less than two weeks. I already have the vet appointment lined up, a new fence in the process of installation, and I repurchased all of the dog necessities I had donated two years ago. I cannot wait to welcome her into the family!

She made herself quite at home