Sometimes, the right decision makes itself.

This is Gimli. He and his litter mates were dumped in an empty freight yard, and were taken in by a local shelter. He’s been fostered for most of his 7 months on earth, but returned to the shelter about a month ago.

I’ve recently semi-retired, so I’m home alone nearly all of the time. I realized that I’m finally in a position to give a needy dog a decent life.

I went to the shelter hoping to find a smaller dog, but the moment he came out, he walked over and planted his chin on my leg and looked me dead in the eye, as if to say, “please, I’ve had enough of this.”

I scratched him between the ears, told him he was a good boy, and knew right away he’d be coming home with me.

It’s been ten days, and I don’t regret it for a moment. Despite looking like a big scary monster, he is the derpiest, most lovable dog I’ve ever met. He wants to learn new tricks (we’ve already mastered sit and lay down) and he seems extremely at ease at home with me. We’re walking every day and he’s slowly getting used to the sights and sounds of suburbia, and today he even sat before we crossed the road several times without me even prompting him.

It isn’t my house any more, it’s *our* house.

And I don’t think we could be any happier.