I was sitting on my friend Robert's back porch when I noticed a small dog peering at me through the fence. She was tied to a tree next door. The dog was white with brown and black spots. She was looking at me solemnly with dark brown eyes, but had one ear up and the other tipped over. This gave her a sort of crooked look and I had to laugh. I went over to the fence to speak to her and she began jumping straight up, chest high. I could see that she meant me to catch her, so I could untie her and help her over the fence.

"Sorry, I'm just petting you," I said. So she sat and gratefully allowed me to reach down and rub her crooked ears.

I learned that her name was Gem and she was tied to that tree most of the time. The rest of the time she spent in the sun porch, staring out through the window blinds she had shredded.

"Tell those people I want their dog," I said to Robert.

But later that day I saw a little toddler, a boy, hugging and kissing her, saying, "I love you, Gem," and that was the end of that.

Months went by and Gem continued her lonely life in the sun porch. Finally, one day that fall, Robert called me. "I have some good news for you."

"They left the dog!" I shrieked.

Sure enough, the neighbors had moved out and Gem was officially abandoned.

I brought her home and immediately began crate training. She was wild and unruly, and she had never been housebroken, having lived her life in that sun porch. But she bore everything with a good and honest nature. She was most cooperative with my dogs, and although mystified by my horses, didn't give them any trouble or get under their feet. She was smart, and clearly doing her best to fit in.

I took her to the MSU Small Animal Clinic, so she could get shots and a heartworm test, and so my vet tech friend Rose could see her. Rose worked in the blood bank. We sat talking with the door open. Rose had put a baby gate across the door so Gem wouldn't run out.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it. The minute I saw this dog I knew I had to have her."

Just then a lady paused in the doorway, looking at us over the baby gate. "What a cute dog!"

"She's a rescue," Rose said.

Gem went straight to the woman, climbed up the baby gate and into her arms, and kissed her squarely on the lips. The lady's eyes began to well up. "Is she looking for a home?"

"Why?" I said.

"I don't know. I've just been praying that the right dog would come along. My Pomeranian is getting old, and I don't want my other dog to be alone. But I need one that will get along with my grandchildren and with horses."

I understood then, as sometimes happens in rescue, that I was like a relay runner, and Gem was the baton. Some things are just too perfectly set up to be denied.