I adopted Leela five years ago in Tyler, Texas. At the time, I was living alone and getting too accustomed to it. It became evident that, if I did not want to completely indulge in hermitage, I needed to learn to allow a companion into my life.

One day, I got word that the ASPCA in the area was going on a bus tour. An ASPCA bus tour is, oddly enough, exactly what it sounds like. A large bus full of roughly fifteen dogs was parked in a shopping mall parking lot on a cloudy Thursday. A coworker and I decided to take advantage of our lunch break to go check out the bus.

I was on the fence about whether or not I really wanted a dog or even had it in me to take care of another living, breathing creature. So I walked up to the bus with a bit of skepticism. But then I saw a small, calm dog in the corner and asked to take her on a walk.

She was calm, yet excited to be walking around the parking lot. She didn't pull, and she kept looking back at me for reassurances. As we walked around I thought this dog seemed cool, though I was still questioning my ability to care for a dog by the time we walked back toward the bus and stopped to talk to one of the employees. When we stopped walking, she sat at my feet, semi-curled up, and looked up at me with the sappiest of puppy eyes.

It was at this time the employees told me the story of how she ended up at the pound. A few weeks before, on a rainy, crummy night, she was dropped off at the shelter along with the puppies she had just given birth to. The shelter took her in and nursed and adopted her puppies away so quickly that her nipples were still distended by the time I came around.

As I listened to this story, I realized she was a young-adult dog (the shelter estimated her to be two years old) whose family had abandoned her the minute she gave birth. I looked into her sappy face again and said, "Okay, you're coming home with me."

We were both shy at first. When I brought her home I said, "Make yourself at home. I'll do me and you can do you." She sat by the door, and after a little time passed, she made her way to the couch. She jumped up, investigated it, then curled up and fell asleep. I think she was happy to be somewhere comfortable and presumably safe.

I crated her when I left for work, because let's be real, I didn't know anything about this dog's temperament or what she might do to my stuff while I was away. When I came home from work, though, she was on the couch. She had somehow broken out of the crate. I was worried at first, but after taking a look around, I realized everything seemed fine. She hadn't gotten into anything or torn anything up. Thinking there was a chance her good behavior was a fluke, I put her in the crate again the next day. But just like the day before, she was out of the crate by the time I got home, and nothing had been disturbed. So I decided to trust her. She was housebroken and didn't chew anything up except her own toys. She was so easy that it really felt effortless bringing her into my home and life.

After I moved to Austin, she really became a savior. When I first moved to town, I was commuting forty-five minutes, one way, to and from work, and the traffic was awful. I was a stress ball of fury by the time I got home every day. I would come home in a terrible mood, leash Leela up, and take her on a walk through Mabel Davis Park, across the street from my apartment complex. Those walks with Leela were therapeutic, melting away my aggression until I felt normal again. If i didn't have her I don't know how I would wind down after work.

Leela has been my perfect companion these past few years. She's moved cities with me, been through relationships with me, and always reminded me the power of a good cuddle.