Sometime around 12:10 AM on January 3rd, 2016, my 6-year-old corgi Eli keeled over in my living room. He died minutes later, in the vet’s emergency room. Eli was my best friend, the perfect companion. Everything we did together was an adventure and he met life with a special brand of enthusiasm — whether it was trips to the store or a relocation to Los Angeles. Non-dog people might not get it, but losing him still hurts every day.
Less than 24 hours after Eli’s death, I learned through a chance visit to a horse breeder’s website that a tri-colored Pembroke corgi was giving birth to seven healthy pups on a farm a few miles from my in-laws in southern Indiana. There are conflicting theories on getting another dog so soon, but I took it as a sign: A new pup from my favorite breed was coming into the world just as Eli was leaving it. Two months later, a pup we’d named Richie was in my home and causing chaos.