It’s hard to explain the mystery of a dog. They start out puppies and they become family legends. They tie the years together in a way that mere people don’t.

Perhaps it’s because we communicate so much through emotions alone. No real conversations pass between us. Body language and expressions are our vocabulary. It’s almost like music.

This story began sixteen years ago when a friend mentioned a man with an amazing story. And it was amazing. Stunning, actually. I’ll tell it later.

But it led to a puppy.

My son was in second grade. He named the chocolate lab “Hershey” because what else inspires a seven-year-old? He was a little afraid of dogs, as were his sisters.

But who’s afraid of a puppy?

Fourteen years of love followed for all of us. Until the day it didn’t. It was a hard day.

We couldn’t bear the thought of going through it again. We needed time. It took three years.

It took until yesterday.

That’s when the story started over. With a puppy. A rescue dog headed for a shelter. Couldn’t say no to that face.

This time it was my wife’s dog. Suzie would never name her after something as mundane as a chocolate bar.

She chose a whole chocolate company. But Nestle wasn’t enough.

Suzie loves English mysteries. So, Nessie was named. It had the right ring for a literary character.

And she is a character.

So, the story goes on. After less than twenty four hours the deal is sealed. She is ours. We are hers. My son put it best. He said:

“What is it about our dogs? They’re always the best.”

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