“They all wanted to know what I was, where I came from, what I was wearing...but she was the only one who wanted to know my name.” Your fingers still comb through her mane; her ears flicker when you graze them. You blink back a few tears as she collapses on your shoulder and you lay her head gently in your lap, her breathing grows deeper and her muscles relax once she feels the familiar comfort of your supportive embrace.