Had I been the one to name him, I might have chosen Ernest — his expression is so perpetually sincere. But Twostep fits him better than I could have guessed. He’s a little dancy, a little country, and when I take him out to the dog run, he rarely ventures more than two steps away.
Like the photo suggests — I swear, I couldn’t snap a better one — Twostep always seems to wind up in the shadows. He’s seen kennelmates come and go, waiting patiently for a family to show up and choose him. For the moment, he’s kenneling solo — a bit of reprieve from the steady stream of personalities he’s had to navigate and adjust to.
Twostep is not what I’d call confident — at least not yet — but he’s definitely not a wallflower. He reminds me of my Uno in the sense that prior to his shelter stint, he probably didn’t get tons in the way of socialization with people. He becomes more trusting as the days pass, his playfulness more evident and more exuberant.
Uno was at the San Francisco shelter about the same amount of time Twostep has spent at Espanola. It’s hard to believe that my spoiled, overly cared-for little mutt had once had a future as uncertain as Twostep’s. I can’t let myself think about that too deeply — the idea of Uno not being here with me, safe and adored and cherished, sends me to a dark place.
Instead, I’ll think of Twostep. I’ll wish for him a family that sees the same soulful eyes I saw in Uno. I’ll hope that future family quickly recognizes his sensitivity, notices how eager he is to please. I’ll pray that they’re charmed by his innocence, by his sweetness and his vulnerability. And I’ll cross my fingers that they show up soon.
Twostep is available for adoption at the Espanola Valley Humane Society in Northern New Mexico.