Bowie. Found My New Pal.

Lindsay's first email to us was four words long.

"Found my new pal."

Attached was a photo of a small black-and-tan dog standing on her shoulder, looking extremely pleased with himself. And Lindsay, underneath him, laughing.

His name is Bowie.

Before Bowie

This autumn has not been kind to Lindsay.

In August she lost Gus, her border terrier. Scruffy, bearded, reddish fawn, with beautiful big brown eyes. A very independent little boy and top dog among her four, with the cutest little terrier bark and howl.

"I was his priority in life."

Gus

Then in October, Roscoe. A Pom/poodle mix Lindsay adopted from a shelter when he was four, a black ball of fur who, as she tells it, picked her, begging to be adopted. He loved everyone and was her family's favorite when they visited. He was her shadow. In the end he was blind, and still searching to be with her.

Roscoe

Both of them were seventeen.

Meeting him first

Lindsay had been searching for a purebred. Instead, she was scammed out of a lot of money.

After that, she made a decision of her own: from now on, she would meet a dog in person first.

So she looked through the pups up for adoption online first, and knew Bowie was one she wanted to visit. At the adoption event, she asked to see him straight away.

It was chaos. Every dog in the place was barking. So the two of them went off to a quieter part of the store and sat together for the longest time.

"I could tell he felt safe in my arms, and right away gave me kisses."

He captured her heart. He had to come home.

The firecracker

Bowie is seven months old and weighs 12.5 pounds. Lindsay describes him in one word: firecracker.

He had the doggy door figured out almost immediately. He was housebroken in just over a week. He talks a lot, and has what Lindsay calls "a wild sort of bark."

He has also found a best friend: Lindsay's seven-year-old rat terrier. The two of them run, wrestle, hunt and explore across five acres for most of the day.

And when the day is done, Bowie sleeps pinned against Lindsay.

He also mauls her face. With kisses. Daily. This appears to be non-negotiable.

A little piece of the ones before

"Home, he behaves as though he's lived here forever."

Lindsay says that sometimes she feels a little piece of her dogs from the past lives on in the ones she has now.

Bowie, she says, is much like Roscoe. "So much love to give."

Bowie's DNA results are still on their way. Our guess is a little of everything, all of it loud. Whatever they say, Lindsay already has her answer:

"I couldn't have connected with a better dog."

With love to Gus and Roscoe.