She was found on the roadside. She was alone, fragile, with a severely broken jaw. That was Booey. A small, deaf dog with ears that stood tall like tiny question marks and a spirit that refused to break.
The first handful of days at her foster home were filled with quiet watching. “Hi sweet girl… good morning,” her foster mom would whisper, approaching gently. Booey couldn’t answer, but she’d scoot toward the sound, settling close, waiting patiently for love.
She was syringe-fed through a feeding tube—every moment a mix of tenderness and fear. Her two new doggy siblings didn’t try to play. They just stayed near her, like quiet protectors. “Are you being a very good boy and watching over her?” her mom asked. “You’re watching over your sissy.”
Booey stayed in an X-pen while she healed, but her spirit had other plans. “Ma’am, you have got to stop,” her foster mom laughed one day, watching her try to scale the pen.
Her ears, always upright and twitching, made everyone smile. “What’s with those ears?” they’d ask. It was funny and ironic. Booey couldn’t hear a thing.
As the weeks passed, so did the quiet. Booey started feeling… spicy. A little mischief here, a little chaos there. “You know what?” her foster mom said, watching her spark to life. “It’s great. It tells me you’re feeling better.”
And after months of healing and scooting and soft mornings, Booey’s story found its happy ending. She was adopted into a home full of love, just like she deserved. Everything worked out the way it should have.
Booey didn’t need to speak or hear—her resilience said it all.
