Dogs of Dreamtime
A Story about Second Chances and the Power of Love

Excerpt: Chapter 1

Searching for the Dalai Lama

She was just sitting there, cool as a cucumber, staring right up at me. She was so still, I wasn’t sure she was real. As I inched forward for a closer look, I could see her bright eyes blink and her body vibrate with excitement. She was exceedingly happy to see that I’d come, but she was more concerned with making sure I got a real good look at her, and that I burned the picture into my brain. Until I did, she was unwilling to move. I can’t tell you how I knew this exactly; it was something in the way she locked her eyes onto mine. So I took in as much of her as I could and committed it to memory.

No more than eight weeks old, with round puppy tummy, she was obsidian black, with fluffy white shawl around neck and chest. She had a white muzzle, with a blaze traveling up and over the top of her head, meeting up with white scruff between shoulders. Four white socks. Little tan eyebrows. No tail.

As I was busy soaking in every detail, I could have sworn I heard her say, “I’ve come back to be with you.”