We got a puppy. After our senior pup passed, I spent almost 3 months researching dog breeds and scoured adoption websites. We tried to adopt a St. Bernard mix and had the painful experience of rejection. On an almost whim we found ourselves at the shelter on “Clear the Shelter” day. I knew what dogs they had (I only stalked every dog within 100 miles) and which ones I was interested in. I wanted a female, larger breed, calm, 1-2 years old tops. The first dog the boys laid eyes on… small, male, 8 years old, an evil glint in his eye. I had a terrible pit in my stomach. I could not do a senior dog. Our current dog would turn 10 at the end of the year. I had to back pedal, and I knew there was no leaving this shelter without a dog. I got them to walk around again and I panicked. None of the dogs felt right. I latched on to the first one who showed interest in us. Female, beagle mix, 7 months old. We fell in love. We snatched her up and she is crazy. She’s wild, loud, chases the cat, gets in Peanut’s space, and never leaves her alone. We are constantly pulling things out her mouth, shoes, underwear, crayons, the couch. She’s perfect. She is the opposite of everything I thought I wanted, but God knew. He knew how incredibly hard this year would be. He knew the tears and heartache. And he knew, above a calm dog, what our hearts really needed, was a laugh. Today she got herself stuck in the cat door. She can jump straight in the air and perch on the back of the couch. Her happy puppy growl is adorable and melts my heart. So many times, I know what I need, I know what I want, and then God says: here is something infinitely better.