by Lily W.
I didn't know why I went to the animal shelter that day. The reason didn't become clear until I saw him. Clearly he was old, and he was half bald from skin irritations. He was skinny and weighed only 7 lbs. And he had stitches where his right eye used to be. When I called to him he came slowly over, as if he'd given up. When I picked him up, he sighed and rested his head on my shoulder. His time was up and he was scheduled for execution the following day.
We bonded instantly. The dog that no one else wanted came home with me and was my constant shadow. He plumped up to 11 lbs., and his hair grew in long and silky. Since he was so small, I managed to sneak him into restaurants and other places that dogs are not allowed. He aided and abetted my criminal acts by remaining very still and quiet. Periodically his snout would appear in expectation of a treat.
I didn't have my dear little Winkie nearly long enough. A hundred years would not have been enough. When he left for Rainbow Bridge, he nestled in my arms and gave a last contented sigh. I arranged to have his ashes returned to me and they rest on my bedstand. They are there to show that he will never be unwanted again.