Two months into volunteering at Santa Fe Animal Shelter, I came home with a scruffy 18-pound mutt. I’ll just foster him for a weekend, I thought. Give the little guy a shelter break. I mean..how could I not? The week prior to bringing him home, I’d walked him a few times, only to leave him with tears in my eyes. I feel that way with every dog I walk, but this one got his hooks into my heart. Just as I would exit his kennel, he’d roll onto his back on the peed-stained concrete floor, and wait for me to scratch his belly.

What’s his backstory, I wondered? No one at the shelter knew, other than he’d been picked up by the shelter patrol on a random street filthy and hungry. At six months old. No one had claimed him, and now here he was..another sweet soul kicked to the curb by some asshole. The angels at Santa Fe Animal Shelter got him cleaned up, neutered and vaccinated. But along with the 100+ other dogs at the shelter, he now bid his time waiting for someone to love and adopt him. That someone became me. Despite all impracticality.

I won’t be getting my rental deposit back

Six months into our journey together, Charlie has successfully chewed his way through two dog beds, every cuddly toy and the fringe on the Asian rug belonging to the owners of a house I’m renting. Anything with a tassel is bait for my little guy. But we’re making progress. Rubber Kong toys and Trader Joe’s peanut butter dog treats are working wonders. He sleeps a minimum 12 hours a night in his crate and makes me feel like the most special human on the planet upon waking.

I have to talk to people

Unlike my senior cat, who takes care of his business in a box, and hangs out indoors all day, Charlie is a human magnet. The cuteness factor is off the charts. His little prance and permanent smirk result in instant engagement with neighbors. But this is good for me – a woman who’s changed addresses almost every year and thus struggles to make friends. Charlie even has a girlfriend named Annie, a little white fluff ball rescued from Albuquerque from my new friend and neighbor Robert. Watching these two pups get tangled up in joy at 6 AM reminds both Robert and I that all is well in the world.

No more Netflix binges

Charlie has yet to distinguish between reality and screen activity, so I’ve started reading again. Yes, I’ll sneak an occasional peak at my phone for a video replay of who’s crushing the mountain stages in the Tour de France, but not for long. And with the election ahead, Charlie is saving me from a ton of empty trash talk between candidates on the horizon. Better to enjoy another novel of my favorite genre – Historical Fiction.

Clearly, for every reason not to have adopted a dog, I am so grateful I did. Here’s to Charlie!