My dear Lily turns 12 today. At least, that’s the birthdate I gave her when she was brought into the Nashville shelter on my watch. A tiny, happy puppy, I put her in the “prime real estate” cage knowing with certainty she would be snapped up.
Weeks passed and no one even looked at her. I took her out daily to play and get some sun. She should have been selected for euthanasia by me weeks before. But I COULD NOT DO IT.
Finally, over a holiday weekend, I “broke her out.” “Just for the holiday,” I told myself. I’d take her back on Monday, I reasoned.
Twelve wonderful years later, she still fills my heart daily.
Happy birthday sweet girl.