When my person picked me out, he made a promise to me. “Forever.” We were going to be a family for the rest of our lives. I was chosen and loved. He named me “Cookie.”  Sometimes, no matter how much you’re loved, things don’t turn out the way you expected. For a while, they told me, “Don’t worry, Cookie, he’ll come back for you soon.” And then, they told me, “I’m sorry, Cookie. He isn’t going to get better this time. We have to find you another home.”

Another home? What will that be like? Will it be warm and comfortable and full of love? Will it be with someone who will give me some time to get to know them? “Family” is a big commitment to make, you know.  I’m a very sweet girl. At about five years old, I’m a sensible, mature adult. I’m calm, well-mannered, and housebroken. I’m also really smart and lots of fun! I love to play with squeaky toys. I’m a tug-of-war champ and a fetch expert. I’m always ready to show off my dainty handshake and I’ll do pretty much anything you ask of me in exchange for a treat.  I think I’d prefer to be an only pet, although I may do well with other dogs after a slow introduction.  I’ll always love my old person, but I’m not done loving yet. I know I still have a lot to give and maybe there’s another soul out there as lonely as I am, searching for a friend just like me.  My name is Cookie, I’m five years old, and I’m spayed, up to date on shots, and fully vetted.