During the '70s we lived in St. Peters, Missouri. One day, we noticed a white Shepherd puppy at our back fence. The pup never seemed to have food or shelter. During freezing rain or snow, she would sit pitifully under an eave seeking shelter. One day, we found the tiny puppy sitting on our back porch. I was thrilled to see her! Our rear fence joined her fence from another block but there wasn't an entry hole. Apparently, this determined puppy weaved through a mile of unfamiliar roads and fences. We returned the puppy, but she came back the next day. We finally kept her. For weeks we expected the owners to inquire, but they didn't even notice the puppy was gone. We named her Fritzie.

A few months later we heard a knock on the front door. Mom wasn't home from work yet, so I timidly opened the door. Fritzie stood barking at the door behind me. A male voice demanded that we return his dog. I hurridly slammed the door. When Mom got home she talked to the man. We'd give his dog back if he would reimburse our vet bills and pay boarding fees. We never heard from the man again.

  
For years Fritzie was my best friend! Later, I left for college in Arizona and Fritzie stayed home in Missouri. Once I graduated and bought a house, I brought Fritz to Arizona. She spent her final years in the desert enjoying colorful wildflowers and long hikes. A first love is always special, one that never bears the burden of comparison but sets a standard for later love.