Sometimes, I recall all the dogs who have drifted through my life like angels sent from heaven to lift my spirits and give me somebody to love. Several revelations occurred while caught up in pondering so intense it brought them back to life. I could feel the warmth of their furry bodies and their early good morning licks. They each possessed a distinct personality and way of doing things that made me laugh and sometimes cry from the intensity of their gratitude for being rescued from unbearable circumstances. The gratitude we expressed to each other appeared to be the driving force that moved our relationship in the direction of love.

I cherished every dog whether my Japanese Chin named Yuki, a highly affectionate Havanese named Bodhi, and my present dog named Lily Rose found in a shelter four hours away from being put down. She saw me as her last hope when the vet said, “I’m afraid she’s not gonna make it.” I waved her words aside and ministered to Lily Rose like the barnyard animals I cared for when growing up on a farm. Mostly, I showered her with love and whispered sweet words in her ear while she laid lifeless on my bed for two months until finally rallying to say thank you with a few licks and the determination to stand up and walk. It was the beginning of her recovery. She enjoyed her special meals and swallowed supplements like an athlete preparing for the big game. Mostly, she enjoyed being held close to a warm body. The rescue director told me the little dog had never experienced love when spending her early life as a breeder dog in a puppy mill and then was dropped at the nearest shelter the moment she was considered too weak to breed. Saving Lily Rose became my privilege.

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