I guess you can call this a “mid-life crisis” – getting a dog and taking so-call dog on a world-wide adventure. “Who’s the good boy?” I cooed, “you are, yes you are, my little Brody.” The dog stared up at me like “who’s this crazy lady?”

I never did like dogs or cats or any animals prior to turning 50 but days after my 50th birthday, I suddenly had a realization. No kids. No husband. I am all alone. I need a companion. It was like an itch that must be scratched. Feeling time was running out, I got dressed and headed to the shelter. There weren’t much choices but it was if fate had it, there was Brody, my Brody, a loner like me, sitting quietly in the corner watching the other dogs play.

“Is that normal for a dog?” I asked, pointing at Brody.

“Ah, he’s probably just being shy,” the lady at the shelter told me, “would you like to meet him?” Before I could say yes, my feet were leading me toward him. “This is Brody. He landed here after his owner passed away and had no one else to take him.” She shook her head, “poor thing.”

“Hi Brody,” I said in my most gentle voice. Immediately, he looked up and tilted his head. In that moment, I felt a connection. “I would like to adopt him.”

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