Marilyn and me. Yes, ours is a real love story. I didn’t have a name back then. I was on Death Row and simply called number 278 when Marilyn Holdsworth saved my life. No. It’s not what you think; Not some forbidden jailbird romance. You see, I’m a dog, the four legged kind. And here’s how it happened. I was a stray picked up by the Humane Society. They found me one stormy day starving, soaking wet and shivering cold hiding in a trash strewn alley. They loaded me in their rescue van and rushed me to the shelter for emergency veterinary care. But even after their staff doctor’s treatments, a warm bath and food, I wasn’t a very likely candidate for adoption. In fact, my chances of finding a forever home dwindled daily. Nobody wanted  a skinny, scared three year old mutt, too frightened to even bark. I stayed huddled in the back of my cage, most days refusing to eat or come out. I knew my time was almost up and had lost all hope.

Then one afternoon a pretty lady walked by my cage and stopped. She looked at me for the longest time. She tried to coax me over to her but I just lay with my head on my paws, watching her warily, remembering all the harsh treatment of the past. Human kindness was not what I had known. And I was afraid. Well, I have to admit, it wasn’t a very promising introduction without even a tail wag from me. But the next day she came back again and the day after that. On the third day I got my courage up to inch out on my belly, creeping closer until finally I was sitting right in front of her. She stooped down and gave me a big happy smile. “Well, hello there. Did you decide to come meet me after all?” she laughed. “What a shy one you are. Looks to me like all you need is some tender loving care. I’ll bet with a little love and good food  you’ll be a beautiful doggie. What do you say we give it a try? You and me? I’m game if you are!” Her warm laughter wrapped around me like a cozy blanket. I pricked my ears to catch her encouraging words and thumped my tail. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckled. And that’s how it all began for Marilyn and me.

I went home with Marilyn that day and my new life began. And what a joyful, playful, loving life it has turned out to be. A grand big yard to romp in, special tasty dog treats and wonderful walks together sometimes even on the beach. And I have a name now. She calls me Ginger, that’s short for Gingerbread Dog. She says I’m the color of freshly baked gingerbread and just as sweet. I don’t know about that but I’ll take her word for it! What I do know is that when she calls “Ginger”! I’ll come running. Eager to go, happy to stay. It really doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. Marilyn and me.