Readers share stories of how adoption has touched their lives.
I’m not sure if I adopted Lucky or vice versa.
More than 15 years ago, my sister told me that a neighboring family had moved out of the neighborhood and had left their puppy there running loose. I told her she should take the dog in, as they would be good company for each other.
She took the dog home, and they accepted one another right away. My sister named the dog Lucky, saying she was lucky to have a home again. She took Lucky with her every time she could. They would walk to the post office and walk around town. If she went out to her farm, Lucky went too.
Then my sister developed a fast-growing cancer, and died two months after it was discovered. Lucky was alone again. However, I had spent a lot of time around Lucky, so I took her in. I figured since she was an old dog, she wouldn’t live long. Boy, am I glad I was wrong. Lucky has been living with me for more than three and a half years now.
She is so faithful that if I leave a room and go into another, she follows right behind me. I sit down in a chair, and she’ll plop down on the floor beside me. Because she stays so close to me, I have to watch carefully when I walk so that I don’t step on her.
When I leave her at home while I’m out, she waits for me by the door. When I open the door, there she is. I’ve even heard her start whining as she hears me outside the door.
So, did I adopt Lucky, or did Lucky adopt me? I’m not sure, but I’m happy for the adoption either way.
Red Oak, Iowa
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