I wasn’t expecting anything unusual when I stopped by Harlow’s Home & Hardware late one Wednesday night. I just needed duct tape and batteries. But then I noticed her a calm, sandy-furred dog sitting quietly in an aisle. She showed no fear, just patient stillness. Her tag had no phone number or address only one word: Hope. No one at the store claimed her. They said she appeared like clockwork every Wednesday night, always by herself.
That evening, I took her home. She settled in right away peaceful and present. There was no microchip, no reports of a missing dog. I made flyers, half hoping no one would come forward. Over the following days, she transformed my life: mornings grew calmer, nights quieter, and I found a purpose I hadn’t realized I needed.
