Guess what? Nils told me he wants to get a dog. I know what that will probably mean: he’ll do all the fun stuff, like walking the dog, playing with it and just loving it. I’ll get the tough part: feeding, watering, cleaning up the poop and having to discipline it. I just know it. Nils is a nice guy, talented, but sometimes he’s ... well, he’s a guy.

Well, I told him that if he gets a dog, I want a kitten. He surprised me when he said it was OK with him, but I had to be responsible for the cat: feeding, watering, and cleaning the cat boxes. I already knew that! He’ll do the fun part, too: playing with the kitten.

He said he was going to go and get a puppy from the pet shop, and we kind of had an argument about that. I told him about how many pet shops got their dogs from “puppy mills” and there were usually a lot of problems. I also told him the responsible thing to do was to get one from the local shelter or a rescue society. They’d be sure to have the adoptable pets spayed or neutered and be sure they were healthy.

He finally agreed that maybe a shelter or rescue dog would be better all the way around. We looked online on “Petfinder.com” and found a number of cute dogs that were available. I was thinking something small; I don’t know what Nils was thinking. I think he was impressed by the descriptions and the standards they seemed to have. He said he’d go the next day and get one.

The next thing I knew, he was walking in the door with a new, black and white hound! Nils said, “Her name is Amber.” I was in the middle of some dusting (what else is new?), and she was very nervous, and was growling at me. Now, I’m not afraid of dogs, but this one seemed pretty on edge. Nils just stood there, holding her leash, and trying to get her to calm down.

Maybe being in a strange place, with strange people was the problem. I mean, she was practically crawling on the floor, growling and whining! She was a pretty pup, but kind of big, about 50 pounds, with short black and white fur. Her eyes were a golden yellow, just like her name. But she was so scared; I wanted to just put my arms around her and tell her it was OK.

Suddenly, I had an idea! I scampered to the refrigerator and pulled out some deli roast beef we had. I took it back out to the living room where Amber was cringing on the floor. Nils was beside her, asking what was wrong. When I came in, though, she lifted her head. I think she could smell the beef!

I got on the floor a couple of feet away from her. I held out a small piece of the meat and she stretched out towards my hand, whining. She inched forward until her nose was right at my hand. Very gently, she stuck out her tongue and pulled the meat toward her, opening her mouth and taking the offering. Nils said, “Do that again! She likes it!”