Katelynn Henderson

My Dog, Molly

Oh Molly, you were such a good dog. That first time we saw you in that little cage, a black, furry mass tightly curled up; we knew we wanted to take you home. You looked up at us with those big, dark eyes and ears flat against your head and we knew you were the one. “How old is this one?” we asked, “one, maybe two or three?” a volunteer told us. “Perfect, we’ll take her”.