“Hey, whose dog is that?” Ryan queried. It was a Saturday afternoon, and my family and I were at a birthday party for a friend of my parents. It was right off the lake, so we had a nice, cool breeze. We were swimming in China lake, which compared to the lake at my camp down in Embden it seemed slimy and gross. I could feel the gooey mud at the bottom, and the nasty leeches swimming around my legs was enough to make me puke.  As I popped my head out from the water, to get a fresh breath of air, I saw it with my own eyes. What I saw was a small, black dog with very little fur, and big sad eyes standing on the shore staring at me. The dog was drenched with water. I anxiously leaped out of the water to get a closer look.  

 “He’s the cutest puppy ever,” I shouted instantly. I jumped with excitement and bolted to give it a “bear hug.” As I hugged it, and nearly squeezed its organs out, I noticed that the dog was dreadfully skinny. The poor thing’s ribs stuck out like a branch on a tree. It looked like it hadn’t eaten in months. The dog looked at me with mellow, deep eyes that were bloodshot red. It had a scar all around its neck. I couldn’t bare the thought of abandoning this dog like its owners must have, so my family and I got into our dark green, pickle colored car. We were on our way to take the dog to the vet for exams and tests.

When we got to the vet it was a welcoming and caring environment. Unfortunately the dog thought otherwise. All she knew about this place was that the walls were a creamy, white color, and that it felt like the Antarctic. I was shivering and my arms had the chills all the way from my fingers to the very top of my shoulder. The dog was also shaking, but I don’t know if that was because of the air conditioner, or the fact that it was in a room with complete strangers that she had never seen in her life. Finally the vet called us into the exam room. My brother and I were asked to wait outside the door because the dog was panicking in fear, and the last thing she needs is two kids panicking as well. At last, when the exams were all done, the vet, and my parents came out of the exam room.  The vet told us that it would have to spend the night for some more exams in the morning. They said they would let us know the results in the morning, but just by the tone in their voices I knew that it wasn’t expected to be good. A single solitary tear fell down my soft, smooth cheek as we left. I looked back to take my last look at this beautiful, frightened dog. She looked at me with her ears folded and eyes as big as cherries, and started to weep. My mom grabbed my hand before I made a big scene in front of everyone, and within seconds we were out the door. I felt hopeless and guilty over something that I couldn’t control. I missed that dog already.
          

The next morning we got the call from the vet. The call that had kept me up all night, the call that I had prayed for from the bottom of my heart. The vet said that the dog would need surgery on her neck and head. They informed our family that this dog went through brutal torment for years. This abuse included constantly being hit on the head, which resulted with minor brain damage. “ We are sorry to tell you that there is a possibility that this dog will not make it through surgery.” The vet said.  I took deep breaths, trying not to sob in front of her. I could feel my heart skip a couple beats, and my mind racing through all the “what if” possibilities. Just when I thought when it couldn’t get any worse, it did...the vet also told us that this dog had most likely been chained to a tree and left alone.  It was a miracle that she was still alive, I thought to myself. Little did I know that the miracles were just beginning.
          

After the surgery was over we left, before I even got to see how the dog was. I took that as a sign that she didn’t survive. Leaving the vet’s office, as we got in the vehicle, my Mom looked at me and my brother, with her curly blond hair, and mysterious hazel eyes. She looked at us in a way that assured us something good was about to happen. It seemed like an eternity before she began to speak, although truly it was only about 10 seconds. “How would you feel about adding an addition to the family?” Mom asked.
          

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she meant. It didn’t feel real, it couldn’t be true. After all this dog has been through, it was impossible for her to have survived this surgery. The odds were 1 in 1,000, like Leicester City in the soccer championships!
           

“The vet says this dog requires a welcoming and caring family” she paused. “And she thinks we would be the perfect one.”
            

The feeling my brother and I were feeling could have never been explained with words. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Was the best we could come up with. I couldn’t believe it it was truly happening. Our very own dog, and not just any dog, a miracle dog.
            

The following weeks after the dog’s surgery were pretty hectic. First we came up with a name. We decided on Lady because the first day we took her home, a ladybug flew in and landed right on her nose. Lady sneezed and started running around trying to get that bug off her nose. It was hilarious to watch. We named her Lady because of that incident, and nick named her ladybug. Lady was not potty trained, so we also had to teach her not to empty in the house. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that Lady’s old owners were careless and unmindful of Lady. Lady was terrified and frightened at the thought of ever having to going back to her old, scary, unwelcoming house. Luckily for Lady, she will never have to go back, she has a new loving and caring home, and luckily for us we are that family.