Molly

My brother told me that the lost dog now has a home. The original owner could not be located, so my brother's friend R. adopted the dog. My brother wrote to me in an email that "Out of all of [my friends], R. worked the hardest to find the previous owner. Signs, calling shelters, checking for chips." At first I felt a little sad that the dog would never go home again, but I realize now that the dog is lucky because she went "from being homeless to being spoiled by R.—she loves that dog like crazy now," as my brother phrased it.

I find it incredibly telling that R. would work the hardest to find the previous owner even though she wanted to keep the dog herself. R. put the feelings of a stray dog and a stranger above her own. That is generosity. And that is love.

R. might not be the first owner of the dog, but with her storied selflessness and affection, I find her to be a perfect owner of the dog. Perhaps I misspoke in my previous post about this dog in relation to Aristophanes' three genders: the lost dog wasn't looking for her previous owner—apparently she was looking for R.

R. named the dog Molly.







R., I look forward to meeting you and your newest family member one day.