The journey to pet parenthood began more than twelve years ago. When my (human) boy, Jake, was eight years old and no siblings were in sight, I decided we'd adopt a dog so he wouldn't be so lonely.

We spotted a little gray-brown-black-orange-blue schnauzery mutt at the Westport Humane Society in Westport, CT. Snuffles came home with Jake and me, and we enjoyed the next six years as a family of three.

Then a production specialist named Michael started working at my company. We started dating and he moved in. Then we were a family of four (and more when his son, Ben, and daughter, Simone, came to visit). We spent many more wonderful years wrestling with, walking, and generally spoiling Snuffles. I couldn't imagine losing him or ever feeling so much love for another doggo. I loved him so much that I made a website for him: www.elpuppo.com.

Eventually the heart murmur Snuffles was diagnosed with when we adopted him reared its ugly head. After months of medications and deteriorating health, we made the decision to humanely end his life. We cried but we knew it was the right decision.

I vacillated between wanting another dog right away and never wanting another dog again. In the end, I decided the ten+ years of wonderful adventures and laughter was worth the pain of saying good-bye. Adopting a bonded pair sounded like a good idea. Until we saw a few pairs of puppers. And we considered life in 800 square feet with two dogs. So the search switched to a single dog.

At first I was not picky: boy or girl, light or dark, five miles away or two hundred. I just wanted to fill the void. But Michael suggested holding out for just the right addition to the family. I entered many filters into PetFinder: female, small, housetrained, good with dogs, within fifty miles, terrier of some sort, black/gray.

Within a few days, there she was: all those things. Sweet Jane's profile picture wasn't flattering. I was afraid I wouldn't think she was cute enough. Cuteness matters when the dog has had a potty accident or destroyed a beloved possession: you have to be able to look at your dog in those moments and say, "I can't even be mad because you're so cute!" Michael noted that pictures aren't always representative and, because she was only two miles from our office, we should swing by the next day and check her out.

The shelter volunteer brought her out and I knew she was a yes. We renamed her Rivers and brought her home that day. At 2 p.m. On a Friday. I realized that we were supposed to go back to work. Michael went back to work. I e-mailed my manager, who thankfully was very understanding about my disappearance for the rest of the day.

Now we have our girl, in the city of Townsville, or, more accurately, Stamford. I have been surprised at how much I love Rivers, or any dog other than Snuffles. Snuffles was a very special dog, but apparently the heart has the capacity for infinite expansion, if you choose to be open to it. Rivers is goofy and clumsy and happy (and 100% housetrained, as advertised). She looks like Snuffles and some of their behaviors are similar, but they have different personalities. She brings us so much joy, and we give her all the fetch we think she can handle without injury.