Late last year, our sweet Rufus got seriously ill -- so seriously ill that we had to put him down. It was one of the most difficult things I've ever done, and I swore that it would be a very, very, very long time before I'd ever get a dog again.
Fast forward to last week: I was over at my friend Katherine's house, playing with her dog in her kitchen while she made us coffee, when she suddenly gasped.
"Hey, you're not in the market for a dog, are you?"
I hesitated. "Why?"
"Well, my neighbour is fostering the CUTEST dog I have EVER SEEN. I want her myself, she's so perfect, but we can't handle two dogs. And I desperately want someone cool to get her. You want to go take a look?"
"I ... uh ... um ..."
"Come on. Let's go take a look. You're going to love her."
We walked a few doors down, and Katherine knocked on the door. It opened, and the woman behind smiled at Katherine.
"Karen! You're home!" exclaimed Katherine. "This is my friend ... also Karen. And I told her about the dog you were fostering. And I think Karen would be a perfect owner."
"Oh, nice to meet you!" said Karen. "Come in!"
I came in, and this little face came bounding up: