Pets Page

"Five years," she whispered. "Me too, Barnaby. It’s been a long five years."

In the kennel across the way, Luna let out a quiet, approving purr. She knew a "soulmate match" when she saw one. "Five years," she whispered

Barnaby felt the urge to spin. His tail began a frantic thwack-thwack against the plastic floor. But he remembered Luna. He sat. He tilted his head. He tried to look "soulful," even though his ear kept twitching. She knew a "soulmate match" when she saw one

"Humans love mystery," Luna countered, licking a paw. "You look like a caffeinated wind-up toy. Try sitting still. Look soulful." But he remembered Luna

The woman stopped. She read his card: Barnaby. 5 years old. Loves snacks and long naps.

When the woman walked away to find a volunteer, Barnaby looked at Luna. "I did it. I stayed still."

The lights in the "Second Chances" shelter usually flickered out at 6:00 PM, leaving the dogs to the rhythmic sound of their own breathing and the distant hum of the city.