A new year -- and a new home for Zoe

Late on New Year's Eve, I received a note from one of our family reps that one of his potential adopters had expressed interest in Zoe. In reviewing her application, I saw that she was the same applicant whom I had rejected six weeks earlier, when I read that she was looking for an older, mellow Lab.

Six weeks ago, Zoe was anything but a mellow Lab. She was hyper and overactive, with a penchant for ripping things to shreds and an unsettling barking habit. But since that time, she had changed -- so much so that I had to rewrite her biography on the rescue Web site.

When you think about her background -- stuck in solitary confinement in her backyard for her entire six years, with little human contact, forced to entertain herself day after day, sleep alone in the dark night after night -- is it any wonder that she was filled with anxiety, and unsure of how to behave, when suddenly being around strange humans and dogs 24/7, and living in a house?

Her owners gave up on her early. If they had given her the attention and training and companionship that every dog needs and deserves, they would have seen her grow into the affectionate, obedient and, believe it or not, docile dog she became in only a few weeks.

So on New Year's Day I phoned Zoe's potential owner, a fiftysomething Inglewood woman and UCLA grad who was early-retired from jobs with the city of L.A. and the Metropolitan Water District. She had adopted a middle-aged black female Lab from us in 1998, and that dog, Pepper, had lived 10 more years. I explained Zoe's history in detail, including the barking issues that had been handled with a water spray bottle, and she was undeterred.

I packed Zoe's things -- including the spray bottle -- and took her to her very nice home on a quiet street with a park nearby, and they hit it off. (Turns out Zoe bears an uncanny resemblance to Pepper.) When I left, Zoe was standing on her porch with her new owner, who later emailed me to say that Zoe was sleeping on her floor. (Maybe Zoe appreciated the peace and quiet of her dachshund-free new home.)

I miss her, of course, but mainly I'm happy for her -- happy that she will at last have her very own human.