DEAR NIEVE,

Thank you for teaching me Spanish, by only doing your commands for Rosa, and not for me. I’m sorry I thought you weren’t smart.

(I wonder how many other languages lay dormant in these dogs’ memory banks that will be forever lost in translation.)

You also taught me that you don’t have to eat what you’re served, and that you can dump the kibble out and consume the cardboard tray it came in instead!

The point is, you reminded me that we always have choices even when it seems we don’t.

DEAR HARLEY,

You are the first blind dog I’ve ever met and I had to be told you were blind because you didn’t show any signs of being without sight.

You are impressively better at playing fetch than most of the dogs here.

On our walk today, I thought about the SATC episode where Charlotte wonders how hard it must be to navigate NYC without the benefit of vision and pretends to be blind for a few blocks.

I almost tried that once.

Almost.

I have a strong feeling that you’re getting adopted today.

You’ll see.

DEAR NAPSTER,

You promised me you would live forever, and you came pretty damn close.

You were a blue merle Spaniel mix, and over the course of 17 ½ years, we were stopped countless times by people who urgently needed to tell me that you looked like “something Dr. Seuss would draw.”

You unapologetically humped dogs’ faces like it was your job, but I suppose that’s the kind of shenanigans one can get away with when you embody a cartoon.

You were a perfect example of what Mark Twain referred to as “a composite dog.”

DNA swab test results:

25% Rockstar

25% Zen master

25% Individualist

25% Bohemian.

100% mine.

“There is no one alive who is youer than you.” —Dr. Seuss

DEAR WILLOW,

Everybody wants you.

There is a list with five families’ names on it already, just waiting to see you. Everyone thinks you’re going home with them.

But I know you’re coming home with me.

You’re a gorgeous supermodel of a dog and you come with a backstory that makes any decent person want to be a hero and save you. But I’m more qualified than anyone here. I earned you. I know trauma comes with drama and I see you. You can trust me.

“Be aware that she may never show affection,” the adoption counselor told us.

You were pulled from a hoarding house with 100 other dogs and you look like you’re done with this disappointing life. My dad was a hoarder and I tried for 25 years to help him.

I couldn’t.

But I can help you.

Here’s what’s going to happen:

We are walking out of here together. We are both going to take our anti-anxiety medication and your fur will grow back and you’ll learn how to be a dog and accept my love and we are going to live happily ever after. Non-negotiable.

(And we did.)

Photo by https://pantthetown.com/