At the end of our morning walk today, I stopped into the property manager’s office with a question. Our new rescue, Kumba, was with me, he being the reason that I get out and do a couple of miles every morning. As they say, if you want to exercise, get a dog.

The new assistant quickly gave me the information I needed, but I stayed in the office for another few minutes to talk about Labrador Retriever Rescue of Florida through which we found Kumba, and Kumba–flown to Florida from a shelter in Puerto Rico– found us. The new assistant connected with his story, in part because she is also from Puerto Rico, as is my husband.

Her family had a Labrador Retriever when he brother went to Iraq. While he was gone, the dog died. The young man’s sister didn’t have the heart to write him this sad news while he was deployed, but keeping it from him until he returned home only deepened his grief. His return to civilian life has been difficult, but it sounds like he has found his footing again, in part through one of our area’s VA hospital.

He is ready for a puppy buddy, and perhaps he and that lucky dog can find themselves through the Lab rescue organization. The idea alone was enough to make the soldier’s sister feel hope and joy.

Me, too.