The shelter called him Ranger – a scrappy little mutt who stole my heart the moment our eyes met. I paid the adoption fee and was dreaming up name ideas when my world tilted. A distraught man named Carlos called claiming Ranger was actually his dog Taco, stolen days earlier.
Carlos sent me proof – photos of Taco wearing the same red bandana the shelter had given “Ranger.” My stomach knotted as I realized I’d unintentionally become part of someone else’s nightmare. We met in a park, where the puppy’s ecstatic reaction to Carlos removed all doubt.
As I handed over the leash, Carlos saw my tears. “Come by the taqueria tomorrow,” he said. “My cousin’s dog just had puppies.” That’s how I met Churro, who now sleeps curled against my side each night. Carlos and I still laugh about how one lost dog brought us together – Taco even gets playdates with his “cousin” Churro every weekend.
