It started with an idea you tossed out half-jokingly one lazy Sunday morning.

"You know what this place needs? A pet. Something to make it feel… alive.” You said

Joe looked up from the book he was reading, his brow furrowed in thought. For a moment you expected him to dismiss it, to point out the responsibility or the mess. But instead, his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“A pet, huh? What did you have in mind? Cat? Dog? A goldfish that’ll die in a week?”he said

You laughed, nudging him with your foot.

“Maybe something a little more permanent than a goldfish.”you said

A week later, you were standing side by side at the shelter. Rows of cages lined the walls, each holding a pair of eyes begging for a home.

You noticed Joe linger at one kennel, crouching low to meet the gaze of a small, scrappy dog with one floppy ear and a nervous wag in his tail.

“He looks like he’s been through some things. Like he just needs someone who won’t give up on him.”he said