Meet Hugo

The blur of fur. He's my adopted year-old Golden, from the local rescue.

Healing after Cassie is still slow. I know Hugo won't replace her. Nothing can. But this boy needed love and a home and I have both to give. My son adores him and so do I.

Soon, we'll start obedience training. Though I don't know too much of his history (as is the case with most rescues), we can tell he was probably bullied by another dog. But my goodness, he's sweet-natured. I can't believe his first owner didn't want him. Their loss. Our gain.

Hugo's tall, gangly, awkward and has a short attention span -- like the typical teenager. He hoards tennis balls and is wonderful to take on walks. He sleeps by the side of the bed and wakes in the morning with his tail beating the floor, wanting much petting. He kisses profusely and loves hugs. His eyes get both sad and hopeful, all the same time. He lives to have you talk to him, touch him or just appreciate that he's there. The poor thing is underweight, but good food will fix that.

He craves closeness. Whoever's on the move, he's there as a shadow. Doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, he's there. Wherever Conor goes, he has an escort. And if we're off in two different directions, Hugo's torn. Who to follow?

In short, Hugo is part of the family. And we're so happy to have him.