A Familiar’s Second Chance

Image Caption: While real amanitas can be deadly for dogs—like twelve-year-old Chesapeake Bay Retriever, aspiring top model, and good boy Si here—rest assured that Si is surrounded only by hand-sculpted foam mushrooms found in fairyland … and author Monica Crosson’s backyard.

Photography by Alexandria Corne

It was spring, the season of green fire that enveloped the hillside and gentle breezes that carried the scent of wildflowers and fresh rain. It was in this vibrant season of renewal that the young witch first felt the pull of the mushroom amulet. She wore it on a leather cord around her neck, a gift from her grandmother, a powerful witch whose wisdom wove through every fiber of the girl’s life, much like the forest roots that wound unseen beneath her feet.

“This will guide you when the time is right,” her grandmother had whispered, pressing the talisman into her palm. At the time, the girl hadn’t understood her grandmother’s words, but on that day, the amulet felt warm against her chest, thrumming with a gentle, insistent energy.

The girl had been longing for a familiar. Every witch she knew had one: a creature imbued with magic, not just a companion but a kindred soul, a reflection of the witch herself. She imagined a sleek black cat with eyes like moonlight, a raven whose feathers glistened with hidden rainbows, or even a fox with fiery fur and a mischievous grin.

Her heart raced at the possibilities. Would her own familiar be an animal fierce and cunning? Wise and mysterious? The anticipation was almost too much to bear. The amulet tugged her forward, an unseen thread guiding her deeper into the mossy embrace of the forest.

She walked until the afternoon sun just touched the western hillside, the only sounds the crunch of twigs under her feet and the occasional trill of a songbird settling in for the evening. Then she saw a perfect ring of mushrooms glowing faintly in the fading light. She smiled. She knew she’d found the place of enchantment.

Her grandmother’s voice echoed again in her mind: “The mushroom amulet will find your heart’s companion, but a lesson will find you first.”

The girl knelt at the edge of the ring, her breath catching. She closed her eyes and pressed the amulet to her lips, whispering, “Show me.” The air shimmered, and for a moment, she felt weightless, as if the forest had exhaled and carried her with it.

When she opened her eyes, the ring of mushrooms had changed. They now glowed a bright pink, and sitting in their center was a dog.

Not a sleek, young creature like she’d imagined, but an old, scruffy mutt with graying fur and tired eyes. His ears were floppy, his paws worn, and he sat quietly, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and something else, something deeper.

The girl blinked, waiting for her true familiar to appear. But the dog remained, his gaze steady. Disappointment prickled in her chest. This was her familiar?

She’d expected something extraordinary, something magical. But this was just…a dog.

The amulet warmed against her skin, as if nudging her: Look closer.

The girl stepped into the ring and crouched before the dog. His eyes met hers, and in that moment, the forest around her seemed to fade. She saw his story through his eyes—years of loyalty, of companionship given and taken for granted, of being left behind when age slowed his steps. He had loved deeply, and that love had gone unnoticed.

Her heart softened. “You’re tired,” she whispered. She reached out a hand, and the dog leaned into her touch, his tail thumping weakly against the ground.

As their connection deepened, the girl felt threads of magic binding them together. It wasn’t the fiery spark she’d imagined but a steady, grounding warmth, like the embers of a hearth fire that never truly dies.

“You’re my familiar,” she said, not as a question but as a truth. The dog huffed softly, a sound that felt like agreement, and licked her hand with surprising gentleness.

The journey home began in silence, the dog trotting beside her, his pace careful but determined, his presence solid and comforting. When they paused by a stream to rest, he nudged her hand with his nose, his eyes full of quiet understanding. He didn’t ask for anything but gave her everything—his trust, his loyalty, his companionship.

By the time they reached her cottage, her disappointment had melted into something warm and tender. She saw him now for what he truly was, a soul who’d waited for her as long as she’d waited for him. He wasn’t sleek or majestic, but he was hers, and that made him extraordinary.

She named him Sage, for his wisdom and quiet strength.

Over the weeks and months that followed, Sage taught her the magic of patience, of quiet devotion, and of love that expects nothing in return. He was always there, steady as the earth beneath her feet, and his loyalty brought a new kind of magic into her life, one she hadn’t known she needed.

The girl learned that love wasn’t about grand gestures or perfect appearances. It was about acceptance, about seeing the beauty in what others overlooked. Sage, with his graying fur and gentle eyes, was the embodiment of that lesson.

Years later, the girl, who had by now transformed into a powerful witch, sat on the porch of her forest cottage, gazing at the patch of earth beneath the old oak where Sage now rested. The moss had grown thick over his grave, a soft, green testament to the passing seasons. In her hand, she held the mushroom amulet, its surface worn smooth from years of touch.

She thought often of her familiar, his gentle eyes and steady presence lingering like the scent of the forest after rain. He had taught her so much. He’d shown her the beauty of the overlooked, the strength in resilience, and the grace in accepting the impermanence of life.

The Magic of Second Chances

If you’ve ever thought about bringing a familiar into your life, I urge you to look beyond the playful puppies and excitable young dogs. Puppies tumble over each other in playful chaos, and younger dogs press their noses to the bars, brimming with energy and possibility. And there, in the quiet corners, are the seniors, waiting. Walking through a shelter, it’s easy to pass them by—but just take a moment to visit with them. Meet their gazes and listen to what their eyes are telling you.

There’s a certain wisdom in the eyes of an older dog, a depth that speaks to a lifetime of stories they cannot tell us but carry in every wag of their tail.

Our culture prizes youth, even when it comes to our furry companions.

But as someone who believes in the transformative magic of second chances, I see older shelter dogs as treasures, their graying muzzles and slower steps a testament to their enduring spirit. These dogs, cast aside through no fault of their own, still have so much to give.

Older dogs carry with them the kind of quiet magic that comes only from experience. They’ve lived, loved, and sometimes lost, but their hearts remain open to connection. Adopting an older dog is like opening a well-loved book; there’s already a richness to the story, but together, you get to write a beautiful new chapter.

In a society that celebrates busyness, older dogs teach us the value of stillness. They’re content to nap by your feet as you work or amble alongside you during a gentle walk. Their pace invites us to pause and savor the small, sacred moments.

Senior dogs know what it’s like to lose their place in the world. Whether they’ve been surrendered by families who could no longer care for them or have spent years in a shelter, their resilience is profound. And when you adopt them, their gratitude is palpable. It’s in the way they rest their head on your knee or wag their tail at the sound of your voice.

When you adopt an older dog, you’re not just giving them a home—you’re giving them dignity, respect, and a chance to feel cherished once more. And the magic? It’s mutual. Caring for a senior dog shifts your perspective, grounding you in what truly matters: love, connection, and the fleeting beauty of time.

Adopting an older dog isn’t just about giving them a home; it’s about creating  partnership steeped in love and gratitude. It’s about finding magic in unexpected places and realizing that sometimes, the greatest treasures are the ones we almost overlook.