O urs has been a family of three for quite some time. 0ur ancient calico cat Patches— She Who Tries to Trip Me as I Walk—is that noisome third, her demanding early morning yowling sufficient to make us get up.

This status has been quo for several years, since we lost Lady, our Golden retriever who came to us from Turkey. It began to change when we got a message from our favorite rescue agency about a dog, another Golden, who needed a permanent home. Her person had died and his mother tried to foster. For sundry reasons, that had not worked, and Zoey was now in a stranger’s foster home with seven other dogs.

As foster-to-adopt people, we have several disadvantages: we are aging ourselves and have no interest in very young, very active animals. We didn’t want a really elderly or sickly animal, and our “yard” (including many acres of woodland) is unfenced. A pretty good dog of middle years who would live several more, that’s what we wanted. The letter about Zoey pointed out that she was twelve, but added that she was in excellent shape and was surprisingly spry for that age. We hesitated a day. We were tempted, but reluctant: we’d never had a dog even reach twelve years. We were torn, but finally, we said, “What the hey—let’s go meet her.”

So we drove to Virginia Beach to the foster home. Zoey appeared at the storm door, looking us over, barking a little, excited in a mannerly way. She was bright-eyed, active, and only slightly gray, and immediately we were that close to saying Yes. We still didn’t know how she’d be with Her Highness, the cat, but decided to take the chance. She readily jumped into our car and rode home like a champion.

Zoey’s been with us about five months now, and we have zero regrets. She adjusted to us instantly and has had no problems with our routine. She knows her name and evidently had been taught basic hand signals. She loves to ride and knows how to behave at an outdoor dining facility.

She showed such attachment to us that after just two days, we let her off-lease in the open, and she always stays close. She will venture only a few yards into the woods but always returns promptly. She’ll investigate squirrels but ignores other wildlife other than deer—she does bark at them.

Our vet checked her out, pronounced her sound, and thought she was about seven years old. Her hindquarters do show a slight gimpyness, but otherwise she’s sound and alert. She’s hiked a measured mile with us without slowing or limping.

And the potential cat problem? Zoey so thoroughly ignored Her Majesty that Patches rejoined the family after just three selfsequestered days.

It’s been a seamless and unbelievably warm and beautiful transition from a family of three to a family of four. We’re headed toward some good years together.