This week, my dive into unique segments of local history takes a personal turn, exploring a topic that many readers may relate to: the profound impact our pets have on our lives. History isn’t only found in books; it’s woven into the small, everyday moments we share. Our lives are defined by experiences, and for many, the love of a loyal canine companion is among the most enduring influences, imprinting memories that stay with us forever.

I’ve been fortunate to share my life with many wonderful dogs. Toby, my first dog, was a beloved chocolate lab—a truly good boy, despite once peeing in my sneakers when I was just a toddler. Then came Bridie, a gentle Sheltie whose quiet comfort got me through much of my youth. I still feel grateful that I was living away from my family home when she passed; losing her would have devastated me, as it did my mother.

As my life evolved—moving to new cities, navigating different phases—so did my companions. At times, having a dog wasn’t practical in small city apartments, so I found comfort in the quieter companionship of cats. Cats have their own charm—independent and sometimes aloof—but there’s a unique devotion in a dog’s love that sets it apart. The way a dog looks at you with unwavering loyalty, tail wagging as if you’re all that matters in the world, is a love that feels constant and unbreakable.

In 2007, I bought my now nearly two-hundred-year-old brick colonial on Game Farm Road—a birthday gift to myself and a promise kept. I’d long imagined that once I had a house with a yard, I’d again welcome a dog into my life. So, I dove headfirst into the world of Petfinder, scrolling through countless profiles of dogs longing for a forever home—and a best friend.

And then I found her.

On my screen was a photo of a tiny, frightened black dog, her wary eyes wide with uncertainty but full of potential. She was the smallest dog at the shelter, barely eating, and her time was running out. I couldn’t let her story end that way. Within minutes, I’d sent an email asking for more details. The shelter’s reply came quickly: it would cost $80 to pull her from death row. Without hesitation, I rattled off my credit card details. If anything else, I could save her life.

Then came an unexpected option: I could pick her up. Really? I blinked, wondering if I’d read it right. Was this actually happening?

On the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend in 2008, I drove to Pittsburgh, heart pounding with nervous excitement. I met a kind couple from the Humane Society who regularly transported dogs to new homes. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind: “You haven’t even met this dog. What if it doesn’t work out?” But when we saw each other, I think we both knew.

I named her Sable, a nod to her dark coat, a small change from the shelter’s impersonal stall number. I wanted her to know she had a real place in this world. From the start, we became inseparable. I recall leaving her at home for a taekwondo lesson, only to return and find stuffing everywhere—my sofa completely disemboweled. But honestly, I think I had as much separation anxiety as she did.

Dogs have been our companions for thousands of years, forming bonds as deep as any between people. It’s believed that around 15,000 years ago, wolves—the ancestors of dogs—began a unique partnership with humans, a connection that has continued from ancient civilizations to our own modern families. Dogs have been protectors, workers, and, above all, sources of unconditional love.

Thinking about Sable, I realize our bond is part of a larger, timeless connection. Throughout history and popular culture, dogs have left a lasting mark. Some of the most iconic dogs in film—like Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, and Toto—have become symbols of loyalty, bravery, and heart. Lassie, a Collie, starred in numerous films and TV shows, her name synonymous with heroism. Similarly, Rin Tin Tin, a German Shepherd rescued from a World War I battlefield, captivated audiences in silent films. And Toto, the spunky Cairn Terrier in The Wizard of Oz, helped Dorothy navigate her magical adventure.

Even U.S. presidents have shared their lives with famous dogs: George Washington had more than twenty, including his favorite, Sweet Lips; Abraham Lincoln’s beloved Fido had his own custom couch; and George H.W. Bush’s Millie, an English Springer Spaniel, co-authored a bestseller.

Sable and I shared countless moments—memories I’ll always cherish. From long hikes to the way she’d burrow under the covers, carefully choosing “her” spot each night. I often laugh when I remember her bouncing up to greet many of my male friends, landing on just the “right” spot.

As the years passed, she began to slow down. Her once-vibrant energy faded, and she went blind, but she remained resilient, finding her way around with help from her friends: Floyd, my hundred-pound shepherd-lab, and Chelsea, a slightly neurotic mix, who both watched over her.

One year ago today, Sable crossed the rainbow bridge. She peacefully went to sleep in her favorite bed, with me by her side. Not a single hour has passed without my thinking of her. Her loss changed me deeply—she was more than a pet. Sable was my companion, my comfort, and my heart, shaping who I am and how I remember these years.

In countless ways, she’s with me, forever my Goober Girl.