I Am Chloe!
 

     I am Chloe. I am a golden retriever. I am twelve years old. I am in the autumn of my years.
     I lived what most would consider an idyllic life, but appearances can often be deceiving. I live in beautiful up state New York in Saranac Lake. Until one day, everything changed. My owners brought my companion and me to the pound. They did not want us any longer.
     I don't understand. What did I do to make my owners put us in the pound? Who will want a twelve-year-old golden? Wait, a woman is here. She comes to my kennel and looks. I hear her say, "C'mon Chloe, it is time to go." Who is this woman? Is she an angel?
     She takes me to her home and keeps me safe and warm. Two days, maybe three I stay here. Will this be my new home? I like the woman and her children. This would be a nice place to live the rest of my days. Changes are happening. The woman puts me in a car and we drive. We meet another woman with a sparkly voice filled with love. You can tell, you know, when a human truly loves animals. I know this new woman does. She brings me to her home. There are many there like me. They tell me stories of how they came to live in the home of the woman with the sparkly voice.
     One, by the name of April, lived her life giving birth. That is all she did—until the woman found her and took her home. April's son lives in the house too! He tells me that his life has been easy, love is all he has ever known, but his mom had a hard life. Still, she has overcome much and gives much back to this woman with the sparkly voice. Will this be the home that I spend the rest of my days?
     No, the man in the house puts me in a car and we drive again. We wait in a parking lot on the side of a restaurant. Boy, does it smell good! Another woman comes and the man says, "Chloe, you are going to your new home with Kate. Come and meet her." Can it be? Does this woman really want me? I am old and tired. How can she want such an old thing? But she does!
     She says, "Chloe, I'm taking you home." HOME, such a wonderful sound. The woman drives for a very long time and finally, we stop. We go into the house. There are two more like me. One young and one old, but yet, younger than me. Is this truly my home? The woman seems to care. She feeds me, gives me a warm place to sleep and takes me for walks with the young one. We go to the doctor with the long braid, a lot. The doctor listens to my heart all the time. She says I have a murmur, but the woman says we will do what we need to do to keep Chloe healthy. And so I live in this house and grow old—six months, one year, almost two years.
     My heart has a murmur. It murmurs, thank you, to the woman that saved me from the pound, to the sparkly voiced woman and the man that brought me to my new human. To my human and the two like me, I say, I love you.
     But now it is time for me to go. I am tired and must rest. So the woman takes me to the doctor with the long braid. The woman sits on the floor and holds me. The doctor and the man also hold me and tell me how much they love me. I get sleepy and soon I am gone.
     I watch the woman and the two like me. She cries and I try to tell her, "Don't worry, I'm OK." The old one like me is sad. I can see this. I wish I could tell him to be happy for me. I am young and vibrant again.
     They called me a rescue dog. One who is lucky enough to find a home when no one wants them anymore. I was rescued and loved until my time to go to the bridge had come. If you ask the woman and the two like me, they would say they were rescued by having me in their lives.
     That is my story. I am Chloe, a golden retriever and a rescue dog.