A simple trip to adopt a dog became a lesson in family, trust, and forgiveness.
Last weekend, I feared I’d lost my son.
Our son, Andy, had been begging for a dog, and after much debate, my wife, Kelly, reluctantly agreed—on the condition it would be small and well-behaved.
At the shelter, Andy’s eyes landed on the scruffiest dog there, a tangled mess with solemn eyes. “She needs us,” he insisted. Against the odds, we brought her home, naming her Daisy.
Kelly wasn’t thrilled, calling Daisy “scruffier” than expected. But Andy was smitten, spending the whole evening bonding with her. Later that night, Daisy became restless, pacing by the door. Kelly, irritated, let her outside, hoping it would quiet her down.
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