He first showed up trying to steal a piece of bread—but somehow, that scruffy dog became my best friend. He’d wait for me by the door, rest his head in my lap, and offer quiet comfort just when I needed it most.

One afternoon, during a walk, he darted into an alley. I found him curled up next to a little boy who had gotten lost and was crying. My dog didn’t bark or move—just stayed by his side until we found the boy’s mom. That’s the kind of soul he was.

Then one day, I saw a missing dog post. A family had been looking for their dog, Max—and the photo looked exactly like Rufus. My heart dropped. I didn’t want it to be true, but I knew I had to find out.

When they came to meet him, they broke down in tears. It was Max. He had gone missing during a camping trip months ago. The people who left him at Walmart were trying to help. Giving him back was the hardest thing I’ve ever done—but it was the right thing.

A few days later, there was a knock at my door. Max’s family stood there—holding two of his puppies. “We thought you could use a new friend,” they said. One little pup curled around my leg, just like Max used to.

Letting go is never easy. But sometimes, it makes room for something new. And when love is real—it always finds its way home.