The road stretched ahead, winding through the breathtaking landscapes of northern Ontario. The crisp March air carried the promise of a new adventure—one that would forever change the rhythm of our home. Annette was at the wheel, her hands steady but her excitement palpable. I sat beside in the back seat, our hearts fluttering with anticipation. Today was the day.
Lua, our tiny miniature poodle, was waiting.
We had watched her grow through videos and photos, our hearts melting with every clip of her clumsy little paws and bright, curious eyes. Born on New Year’s Eve, the runt of the litter, she had entered the world outside, under the vast sky, the moon shining above her. It felt only right to name her Lua—the Portuguese word for “moon.”
As we pulled into the driveway, our excitement gave way to something deeper—an overwhelming sense of love. Annette stayed outside getting the back seat and carrier ready and I went to the door. The moment I stepped inside, a tiny ball of apricot-colored fluff was given to me. She nestled her head in my shoulder as I was petting her, until Annette came in moments later, her tail wagging with pure joy. Lua was even smaller in person, but her energy filled the space.
“She’s been waiting for you.” I was told.
I passed her over to Annette and Lua clambered into her arms, licking her chin as if she already knew—these we were her people. As Annette gently ran a hand over Lua’s impossibly soft fur. She let out a contented sigh and curled into her arms.
The drive home was filled with quiet moments and whispered reassurances. Lua curled up in her new car carrier were she felt safe and warm. Every so often, she peeked up with sleepy eyes, as if checking to make sure we were still there.
As we stepped through the door, setting Lua down on the floor for the first time, she took a few cautious steps before turning back and looking up at us.
This was her forever home.
Our first fur baby together. Our little Lua Evie our moon.
