We drove far to rescue my childhood mutt pup, Einstein. He was the signed treaty. My sister and I would accept our move from school, in the middle of the year, because at our new house, we got to have a dog. He was caramel colored, with dark black features, long hair and perfectly perfect in every way. We grew up together. And then one day, just before I graduated from college he got sick, and before I knew it, it was time to say goodbye. I laid down with him on the vet room floor, shaking with sadness, and he licked away my tears just before moving on. I took comfort in caring for other dogs. Working for a local family for 7 years, I have taken care of their dogs and home for sometimes more than 2 weeks at a time. Sweet Daisy and Penny have passed in my tenure, but as dog lovers do, they have opened their home to more rescues who need their love. And I did, too. At 24 I headed downtown to the pound and found a young pitbull. He crouched in the corner of our meeting room, fresh from surgery, and puked almost instantly. Sick with nerves and medicine. We were bonded forever. Not that it has been easy. I don't think I knew what I was getting myself into. We've certainly had our fair share of problems. He suffered abuse before he was found on the frigid streets of Akron in January, and he continues to work through is mental health and anxiety issues, but he is the light of my life. My guardian. My friend. My perfect Hank.