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Three years of Victory



On this day, three years ago, I wasn't expecting to adopt a beagle.

Not at all. A former neighbor of mine had a beagle and he howled constantly. As much as I loved Snoopy as a kid (and still do as an adult), I wasn't about to get a dog that always sang a B-flat.

In the month I had between housemates, life felt very empty. I had spent so many of those five previous years with a terrier named Juliet. Now the house was barely half full with my stuff, awaiting Matt's arrival on the Fourth of July. Once Matt moved in, I looked into getting another dog.

A trip to the Dallas SPCA was rather heart-breaking; not many dogs, and many with life-threatening conditions that required an expensive upkeep. But thanks to a friend of a friend, I was tipped off about the Humane Society in Fort Worth. Seeing a dog that I liked on a pet adoption website, I decided to make the trek out. The dog wasn't there, but Victory was.

The key factor for me was that she didn't bark her head off at me. Most dogs did. She just gave me googly eyes as I passed by her pen multiple times. I ended up taking her home that day.

And every day since then has been elevated because of her.

I never imagined saying that about a dog, but it's true. No matter how good or bad a day I'm having, she's always there, happy to see me and Matt. And it helps she's still strong enough for daily three-mile walks.

She turned eight a few weeks ago, and I hope many more days are filled with joy because of her.

And she's a daily reminder that putting effort into finding the right situation is absolutely worth it in the long run.

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