Daisy was my second foster dog, the first I chose myself and the first I adopted. She was the saddest, most pathetic thing on the Bowling Green, KY SPCA website–a stray whose eyes were practically matted shut when she was brought in. She had intestinal parasites, terrible teeth, and they had no idea if she’d ever been house trained. I had a long talk with the director of the rescue group I worked with and accepted that I might be signing up for doggy hospice.

The first night I brought Daisy...