The articles about people surrendering their pets made me mad, so I'm going to share my Duffy story. It starts, sadly, when Nicholas Christmas, my Nickels, my Duffy, my angel, my heart, my dog of 16 years who held me together through the toughest times of my life, passed away.

I was bereft. I swore I would never get another dog. Nick had been with me since I was 11 and passed away when I was 27. He had numerous nicknames including Nickels, Fuzzbutt, Yoda Ears, and Duffy.

Late in August 2017, over four months after Nick had been gone, Mom wanted another dog. I wasn't totally ready - I felt that getting another dog would be betraying him, even though many insisted it wouldn't.

That month, @mt_animal had gotten an influx of pets from Hurricane Harvey. There was a Jack Russell terrier that had caught my eye, but it had a bad bout of kennel cough and wouldn't be put up for adoption until it was gone.

I checked in week after week, but the poor baby remained sick. On September 19th, I went in person to see how he was doing. Still not doing well and still not adoptable. My heart was broken. I was ready to give up. Mom had seen another big dog that she was interested in.

He was huge & beautiful but both I & the shelter realized that he wouldn't be a fit for our small condo with minimal yard space. While visiting with him, I had seen the back of a dog with a fluffy tail dragging along the floor. I thought nothing of it until I passed its kennel.

Its name was what finally made me pay attention - Duffy. She was a tiny, scared, bedraggled dog that had just come up from the Humane Society in Amherst, Virginia.

I asked about her - she wasn't going up for adoption until 4PM that day & six other people had asked about her. It was a first-come, first-serve situation and they said I could meet with her first if I stayed at the shelter. It was 3:35. I sat on the floor in front of her kennel.

For ten minutes, we stared at each other. She didn't want to move from the spot on her blanket. Finally, she got up and slowly came towards me.

...then...she let me pet her.

4PM rolled around. They brought me to a room with her (after telling me to wash my jeans when I got home because I'd been sitting on the floor). She laid down on my lap. I texted Mom with some poor photos because I didn't want to disturb this angel.

This entire time - and I know this is sentimental and ridiculous - I felt like Nick had sent this dog to us, and telling me that it was ok. That a part of his spirit was with her. I adopted her.

When we got home, Mom got a glance at her through the window. When Duffy came upstairs, she hid behind our kitchen table, still petrified. Mom didn't realize how cute she was. When we brought her upstairs, she curled up in Mom's spot.

Over the next few days, she warmed up to us. It didn't take her long to get comfortable. (She was also still recovering from getting spayed.)

One week later, this happened. All smiles.

Over the next several months, as she adjusted, we all grew more attached.

Anyone she's met, she adores. And they adore her.

She's become a (reluctant?) @Mets fan.

She's just ridiculous and a snugglebug and has such a swooshy tail. Four years later, she's provided us with joy, love, laughter, and support. And yes, she has so many of Nick's mannerisms, despite them being two entirely different breeds.

Anyway, I could go on and on about her. My point is that any dog's a commitment. They love unconditionally and wholeheartedly. It's not just a whim or what YOU want. They have wants & needs too. #AdoptDontShop, but also make sure that you'll love and care for that pet you get.

P.S. Yes, the Jack Russell terrier WAS adopted about a week after Duffy. I'm thrilled that he also found a forever home. Now, here are some Duffy kisses to sign off. #DailyDuffyDorableness.

Goodnight.