"In January 2016, I lost my Heart Dog Yoda to heart disease. Yoda was a very special dog, and saying good-bye to him felt like my soul was being ripped from my body.

For twelve years, my sweet boy was at my side. He joined our family right after my new husband and I closed on our first house. He went to work with me most days, even when I changed employers. He was there to welcome home our first son. He came with us when we sold our house and moved in with family for several months between closing on the new house. He loved the new yard and the room he had to run and play with his Boy. Then he welcomed our younger son home. Yoda never left my side as I recovered from a traumatic injury for 9 weeks.

When we got the news from our vet that he felt that Yoda needed to consult with a cardiologist in January 2015, I was crushed. He was nearing 12 at that point, so I knew our time was getting shorter, but was still in denial. My Sweet Boy would live forever. He had to, because I loved him so much. I didn't know how I would go on without him.

For a year, I planned my life and my schedule around a dog. I lined up people to hang out with him if I had to be away for more than a few hours. He came with us to visit people at their homes. Mostly, I stayed home with him, or brought him with me. He was taking medication every 12 hours, and I didn't want to skip or postpone doses.

His last week or two were hard for all of us. I cried a lot. I tried not to cry in front of Yoda, or the kids. Yoda struggled more each day. My husband was working out of the area at the time, and was gone during the week. I had to be strong for the kids, and for Yoda. I owed it to him. He was always so strong for me. He was my rock.

I knew in my heart that he was leaving soon, and it was killing me. His body was failing. I picked his now light 67 pound body up and put him in my bed. I didn't sleep. I counted his respiratory rate. I sobbed. I wept. I told him how very much I loved him, and how I'll never love a dog like I loved him. I told him I'd learn to be okay without him, and that he didn't need to worry about me. I told him I understood that he fought so hard to stay with me, and that I knew he was tired. I love him and I'll miss him forever, but I don't want him to be miserable for me.

Two weeks after Yoda's final vet visit, I felt Yoda's presence and I heard him tell me, "Jethro. Look for Jethro. I'm sending you a dog named Jethro." I met a local dog I saw on FB. On the way to meet him, I saw a rainbow, and an eagle was perched in the tree in my back yard. I took them as signs that Yoda was okay with me getting another dog. The dog was sweet and he looked a bit like Yo. He liked my kids. I told his current owner that I'd like my husband to meet him before I committed. She was supportive of that. I had 5 days. After 3 days, I called the lady and told her that as much as I liked him, and as much as my kids liked him, I didn't feel in my heart that he was my dog, and I'd have to pass. I didn't want to get in the way of him finding the right family, and I wasn't ready yet. And his name wasn't Jethro.

I quit looking at dogs who needed homes. I wasn't ready. I missed Yoda terribly, and I worried that I'd never love a new dog like I loved him. I worried that I'd resent the new dog for not being Yoda. That wouldn't be fair to anyone. Then, in mid-February, my older son was home sick from school. I decided to "just look" at Petfinder. I was looking at the thousands of listings for medium to large sized, male, young dogs in my area. And then I saw him. Jethro. There was a medium to large, young, male dog in my area named Jethro. He was black and tan, like Yoda. I sent a picture of my laptop screen to my husband. His response: "When are you meeting him?" I arranged for my mom to take my kids so that I could make the half hour trip to the shelter.

When I got there, they started with the pre-adoption questions. Yes, I have another dog. Yes, I own my home. Yes, my yard is fenced. Yes, I have a cat. Yes, I have children under 10. And that was when they told me that I could not adopt Jethro. The adoption counselor told me that it was a policy that jumpy or mouthy dogs could not go to homes with kids, and Jethro was both. It was close to closing time. The policy was non-negotiable, but they could let me meet another dog that would work better for my family. No, thank you. I went back to my truck. And I cried. They wouldn't let me even meet the dog Yoda had sent me. I was again heartbroken.

I went home and posted on my FB page that I was upset about the policy not even being negotiable. A previous employer, who I had worked for when I first adopted Yoda, and who had seen the transformation in him, offered to write a letter of recommendation. She is a certified humane dog trainer, a dog daycare owner, a non-profit therapy dog program founder, and a friend still-10 years after I became employed elsewhere. I took her up on her offer, then wrote a lengthy email detailing my experience with dogs and why I thought that my family could handle a young, bouncy and mouthy dog. "I'd love an opportunity to please meet Jethro and have an dialogue about his needs and my ability to meet them."

The lead adoption and behavior counselor responded to my email, and offered to let me come in and meet Jethro under her supervision so that she could talk to me about my experience. I used to co-teach dog obedience classes. I had previously owned a terrible and awful young male dog who bit people for fun, and helped him become a wonderful companion who was adored by everyone he ever met. I was confident that I could handle another naughty beast, and that my kids would be fine. I walked back to the kennels while I waited to meet her. Jethro stood in his kennel, staring at me. He sat when I asked him to. He had no issues with eye contact. He seemed very sweet. I was excited to meet him. My introduction with him went well. She cleared me to bring my husband, kids and other dog in to meet him. I told her I wouldn't be setting my kids up for another disappointment, and would not bring them until my husband and Kailie gave Jethro the All Clear. She understood.

My husband, Kailie and I visited Jethro again that weekend. I’d had several days to think about it. Was I sure this was my dog? Was I crazy for deciding to bring this dog home based on a message from my dead dog? Was I even ready for another dog yet? We still had that trip in May. Who did I trust to watch a new, rowdy dog with my senior dog with mobility issues? Kailie didn’t hate him. Kailie is pretty dog selective in her old age. But she didn’t hate him. She pretty much ignored him, which is about as good as it gets with her. My husband didn’t hate him. He says he doesn’t like dogs. Only Yoda. He’s never liked Kailie. Probably because she steals his food and doesn’t listen. But he didn’t dislike Jethro, so that was a plus. I committed and asked if I needed to have my mom bring my kids in. The weekend adoption counselor said that she had been told that she was to do whatever she had to do to get Jethro to go home with me. I said, “Let’s get the paperwork done, then. I’m not worried at all about my kids.” I filled out the paperwork, and loaded my new boy into the truck. I looked at his shelter paperwork on the way home. He was a recent transfer to Seattle from Oklahoma. His health certificate for flight was filed two days after my birthday. I told my husband that this dog was my birthday gift from Yoda. And then I cried again.

I ended up digging into his records and contacting Animal Aid of Tulsa for clarification of some vaccination dates for my vet, and was able to talk to the staff who had loved Jethro for so long. I learned that he had spent 25 months waiting for a forever home. He was adopted for a month at one point, by a man who wanted him to be a hunting dog, which he did well enough but he barked incessantly when tied in the yard. Jethro had been passed up repeatedly at adoption events because he was "too big", "too rowdy", "too scary" (WHAT?!). I created a Facebook page so that his friends in Oklahoma and the friends he met on his journey to Seattle could follow him and know that their efforts and love paid off for Jethro.

Jethro has been here for 22 months. We call him Doober-dog often enough that I worry that he’ll forget his real name. He’s hilarious. He’s expressive. He has a sense of humor. He’s challenging. He has tried all of our patience at times. He destroys things. He occasionally pees in my house. But he is incredibly sweet. He wants nothing more than to be touched. You don’t have to pet him; just touch him. Just let him sit with his hip or his back touching you, and he’s content.

The longer he’s here, the more confident I am that this dog is the dog Yoda sent me. I’m confident that Yoda sent me Jethro because Jethro is a lot like Yo was when I first met him. A little bit unruly, with a glimmer of mischief in his big brown eyes and an impish smile when he gets a reaction from you. Ridiculously sweet when he’s not being a goofball. Protective of his boys and eager to play with them. He enjoys sleeping with them in their beds. He enjoys snuggling with them to watch a movie.
He’s very in tune to us. He’s an excellent camping companion! He hardly sheds and dirt doesn’t really stick to him, so he’s allowed on most furniture with invitation. He’s great in the car, even for long trips. He settles right in and sleeps, mostly. He doesn’t jump up on us unless we ask for hugs. He’s still a little mouthy when he’s riled up. He has no concept of personal space and he’s oblivious to the idea that we might actually need to do things that don’t involve him. His behavior is coming along very well, and gets better every day. I really enjoy his companionship.

I’m eager to see the dog he is when he meets his potential, and I’m grateful to his shelter friends who obviously loved him very much and took wonderful care of him. I find it hard to understand why this sweet boy sat in a shelter for 25 months! He’s a great dog, and anyone would be lucky to have him. I’m glad for me that he waited for so long, but sad for him that he went so long without a family of his own.

Thank you Kelly, Tra, Becky and everyone else who took care of Jethro for me before I even knew he existed, and Vikki, who helped him get all the way from Oklahoma to Seattle. I’m so glad he’s here!" - Jessi B.