I had lost my first boy, Yapka, seven years earlier, and for all of those years since his passing I knew it wasn't time yet for a new boy. That is, until the winter of 2008. Here's where the story might take a leap of faith for some of my readers.

It started as the sensation of soft footfalls on my bed shortly after laying down to sleep for the night. It began to happen so regularly during the months that followed that I would lay awake and wait for them. My boyfriend at the time, now my husband, began to feel them too. Finally, there came a night when the padding of small feet reached the head of my bed and I heard a distinct breath close to my face. That was the last time I felt the foot steps on the bed, but it awakened in me the certain knowledge that now was the time to be looking for our future companion.

I spent the beginning of 2009 busy, but the nagging feeling that someone was waiting for us never left me. As winter turned to spring, I began the search in earnest. I knew he would be a long haired dog, a lot like Yapka, and I followed up leads with rescue groups. It seemed each time I thought I'd found him it was a dead end. It just didn't feel right. Then one day, a loose dog came into our apartment complex. It was long haired, and white. It was reunited with its owners, but I knew now that I was looking for a light colored dog.

That same day I logged onto the San Diego Humane Society's website and began looking. that's when I found him. He was listed as "Milky," a year old golden retriever mix. The next day, while having lunch with a neighbor at Nati's Mexican Restaurant down the street from our apartment complex, I told my friend all about Milky. She immediately offered to go with me. So down we went to the Human Society to look for Milky.

I didn't ask for help, but just wandered up and down the rows until I finally saw him. He was barking at everything and nothing, like many of the dogs around him. One very sad chow chow sat stoically quiet. That dog has never left my memory. Later, I was to discover that Milky wasn't a golden retriever at all, but a chow mix.

They brought Milky out for a meet and greet in the outside pen area. He was like a deer in the headlights. It just looked confused and nervous and would not interact with us. The young woman who brought him out seemed to be begging us to not dismiss him. He'd already been there two weeks and was living on borrowed time. Apparently, she told us, he was relinquished because "...he was the yard dog and they had too many dogs." She didn't need to convince me, because I already knew. Milky was the one I was looking for.