The dog in most of my books...

...is based on my own dog. She passed away several years ago, but she left an everlasting influence.

Miss B was one of many nicknames. She was a rescue mutt. A local pet store made a deal with the vet across the street. Whenever the vet ended up with unwanted puppies, the pet store would sell the pups for a minimal fee that included a first vet visit.

After the passing of my brother's dog, an animal I'd helped care for, I decided I needed a dog of my own. I planned to search the pound and shelters. I would make sure I explored all the possibilities before making a decision. The excursion was planned for a Saturday. On Thursday, I stopped in at the pet shop on my way to grocery shop. It couldn't hurt.

They had a raised enclosure with a bunch of puppies, balls of fur in gold and black. The gold critters were purebreds and appropriately priced. The black fur balls were cheap. I was only looking. What could it hurt?

That night, I dreamed about one of the black balls of fur and even named her. In the dream, I saw her from puppy to close to the end of her life. I denied the meaning of the dream. I was determined to carry out my plan to explore every possibility.

Best laid plans of mice and men... God's ways are not man's ways.

I returned Saturday morning, with the plan to start the day making sure she was still there. She was on the list. We'd see where she was by the end of my excursions.

You guessed it. I never it made it out of the pet shop. I've never been sorry.