Finding Freeman - Dee Wallace

I went to the shelter to find a dog this weekend. It’s time. My heart is finished mourning my beloved Savannah, so I visited three rescue centers to find the furry love that would fill my void. I saw some beautiful, loving, frisky dogs, but none of them were “her.” The people at the rescue centers kept trying to corner me on the specifics of what I was looking for. I replied that the only must was that she was…a she. I couldn’t, and didn’t choose to, pin it down any more than that. “She’ll find me,” I replied. Because they always do.