Someone once said, “Whoever said money can't buy happiness has never paid an adoption fee.” That person couldn't be more accurate. That was the best $50 I've spent. It may have led to roughly $150 more being spent in less than a week, but who really needs gas when you've got a puppy anyways? This is a letter to my rescue puppy, Milo.

I didn't intend to adopt a dog the day I got you. I was just going to look. My best friend said it would be fun. So, we went. She knew the whole time we weren't leaving without a dog and she instantly deemed you as the lucky puppy.

You were in a cage alone. You didn't get excited when we had our faces pressed against the glass like the other dogs. You seemed sad, honestly. I guess I would’ve been, too, if I was you. You didn't have a home. None of those animals have a home. They're all patiently(or impatiently) waiting for someone to look in their direction and decide they want to share their love with them. You were all there for different reasons. Some had been abused, lost their owners or had been surrendered by their owners, and some were strays. You? You were a stray. You've never known what a home was. You've never even had a bad home. I can't decide what is worse, having a bad home or not having one at all. Neither situation is ideal. You don't know what it's like to be loved by anyone other than your caretakers at the shelter. While those people truly do love these animals, it's not the same as having a home and an owner’s love.

Since you're a stray, I don't know much about you. Here's what I do know… Your name was Pico. I'm sure you know it's Milo now. You're a dachshund mix and you only weigh five pounds. You've got a heart of gold, though. I've never met such a mild tempered dog before you. You spent most of your life in the shelter and you were only up for adoption for a few hours before I adopted you.

I want to make a few promises to you. I promise you will never end up homeless again or in a shelter. I promise I'm doing everything I can to get you to trust me enough to take a treat from my hand. I promise I'm not going to spank you even if you dump your food and water out as soon as I leave you alone. I promise I'm not mad at you when you do that, either. I promise I am coming back when I leave for work. Ultimately, I promise that the only marks I'll ever leave on you will be from my lipstick.

It's only been two weeks with you and I've already watched you slowly open up more and more everyday. Eventually, maybe you won't run and hide when I find where you dumped your food out on the floor. I'm still trying to decide if that's out of spite or not. Hopefully by that time, you'll have realized that your tail is not your own personal chew toy.

Milo, I want you to understand that you're safe now. I also want you to know that I don't mind that you lick the makeup off my face sometimes or that you won't chew on anything, but my finger or that owl my ex-boyfriend gave me. I don’t mind that you sleep on my shoulder and sneeze on my face and wake me up. It only slightly grosses me out when I have to wipe your snot off my face in the mornings. It's only cute because you're three months old.

I never gave it much thought when I would hear that rescue dogs were the best breed but, man, they were right. Rescue dogs love differently and I truly believe you learn a lot from raising a rescue dog. You can't treat them like just any other dog. You have to be gentle and patient at all times even when you’d rather scold them because that's the easier way out. But nothing is more rewarding than seeing something as little as that new bed of yours make your tail start wagging and your eyes light up.

Milo, you’ve found your forever home.