My dog found a dog. I was with my dog at the time.

[slightlv]

3. Rescuing cats and rehoming them through the years,

I had to learn that lesson. After a few months of socializing them, letting them go is heartbreaking. I also had a mixed lab end up in my yard complete with a broken leg. I helped as much as I could, and then spent hours emailing and calling shelters and rescues for help. We were living on one salary, and couldn't afford a vet bill like that, but dang... that dog was so loving and scared and so appreciative for any little thing we'd do for her. I finally got a call from a rescue out in the country who said they'd take her, and it was because of the way I'd described her and my passion for getting her help. They fixed her leg and she found friends to socialize with, both 2-legged and 4-legged, before she found a forever home.

But the best was the day my cocker spaniel "adopted" a dumped border collie puppy for himself. He brought him home, and this one made him home with us. The rescue would have taken him, but that first night, he proved who he was by insisting we get out of our bed and go into the family room -- it was on fire! I named him Einstein. And he lived up to his name. I didn't know if I'd live through his puppyhood at times; we nicknamed him "bouncy dog." But dang, he was a good dog. We lost him just 2 years ago, and we still miss him everyday. Sometimes letting go comes in different tests. This one, I think, hubby and I fail at times.