Hadley: From Abandoned to Adored Forever
It looks like she’s had puppies, but I don’t know what happened to them or how long ago. Any person who could abandon such a sweet dog is truly despicable!
Im spending my second full day with her and she is incredible. She follows you around, sits on command, gives more kisses than you can ever ask for, and loves to have tummy scritches.
I am so blessed to get to adopt her and love her forever. We have gone to the park and explored Petco. She loves every one and gets a sad look when she is ignored.
She loves to sleep in the silliest positions and will excuse herself to bed when she is tired.
She is also so precious to me because this is the first dog since losing my 19 year old poodle, Annie, who was my entire world and passed away. It’s been a few years and I wasn’t sure if my heart was ready. Grief is never ending but for the first time I feel a joy in my heart I didn’t think I would ever have again. I cry for Annie sometimes daily still.
Hadley is another angel on earth in a little dog body creating light and love. I am just so blessed we found each other. I can’t wait for all our adventures and to love her like crazy.
The last photo was when we rescued her. She was so scruffy but just as adorable.
The first night she slept here, I kept waking up just to check on her. Not because she was restless—but because I was. There’s something sacred about the first quiet hours in a new home, especially for a dog who was left behind in a concrete parking garage. Hadley curled up on the soft blanket like she’d been waiting for it her whole life, sighing the kind of deep, relieved sigh that only comes when fear finally loosens its grip. Sometimes she still startles at loud noises, and when she does, she looks at me immediately—like she’s asking if this place is still safe. And every time, I tell her yes. Watching her rediscover simple joys—the smell of grass at the park, the thrill of picking out a toy, the luxury of stretching across a whole couch—feels like witnessing healing in real time. I don’t know what happened before she found me. I don’t know where her puppies are or how long she was alone. But I know this: she won’t be alone again. Annie will always be part of my heart, always my first great love. But Hadley isn’t replacing her—she’s reminding me that love doesn’t run out. It grows. It makes room. And in the soft weight of Hadley’s head resting on my lap, I feel something I hadn’t felt in years: peace.
