When I went to the shelter, I didn't give you a second look. You were just barking behind the glass door. It was annoying. It's not like I was even there to adopt a dog - I was a freshman living in the dorms - I just wanted to play with a cute puppy for a bit. And had it not been for my girlfriend at the time dragging me, I wouldn't have gone to the shelter in the first place, and I'd never been to one before. It was awfully loud in there - they were over capacity because Denver had just banned Pitbulls so they had all been shipped up there... turns out you were the only non-Pit in the place, and because my home address was in Denver, they wouldn't even let me play with any of the other dogs. Well that would have been the end of the story. I was ready to leave. But my girlfriend thought you were cute and insisted we play with you. Fine. I guess I can tolerate the barking for a few minutes. They took us to a little outside area with a bench. They were going to bring you out to meet us. I sat down. The door opened and you came out. Your tail was wagging so fast. My arms were crossed. And you ran right past my girlfriend's puppy-voice-beckoning and outstretched arms. You hopped up on the bench, sat down next to me, looked over... and I was so in love with you. I don't know what it was. The memory brings me to tears instantly. That was 8 years ago today. 8 years ago tomorrow, you were scheduled for euthanasia. But instead, you've made every single one of the last 2,922 days incalculably better. Happy 8th adoption-anniversary, Boomer. I love the shit out of you.