She was a foster kid. Grew up in a group home. A place where you basically lived in a bunk. If you were lucky, you got to shower before the other kids drained the hot water tank.

Christmastime was especially difficult. Everyone else was with families. Meantime, you got various Dollar Tree toys and food on paper plates.

Our story takes place when she was 14. She was tall and gangly. Brunette hair, bad teeth. Her mom and dad were incarcerated. Neither family wanted her.

As it happens 14-year-old foster kids are not easily adopted. Potential parents would visit the home, meet the kids, and they never even asked her name.

Men wanted sons. Women wanted babies to cuddle, someone to call them Mommy. A 14-year-old was like a geriatric dog at the shelter. Too old to adopt.

It was one December when she was taking an after-school class that life changed. She was in Spanish club. She was pretty good at the languages, but really, Spanish Club was just a way to prevent herself from going back to the group home for a few hours each week.

She was exiting the school, on her way to the carline, when she saw something by the dumpster. It was small and fuzzy. A little animal. Not a newborn, but a puppy nonetheless.

The animal was eating from a discarded fast-food container. One of those paper boxes a Big Mac comes in. I’m lovin’ it.

She approached the feral dog, which—let the record show—is a good idea. You never approach a strange canine who is involved in eating unless you want to be dessert.

But the animal was so little, so cute, she wasn’t scared, and the dog didn’t seem to know how to be aggressive yet. The puppy walked right to her.

It was a girl puppy. Brown all over with white boots. When it careened into her, it was like the final scene of a Lassie flick. Lots of licking. Lots of tail gyration.

The fosters parents, against their better judgement, let the girl keep the animal. It was a sweet friendship that blossomed and became lifelong.

There were lots of walks. Lots of obedience book reading. Lots of mopping up puddles of urine the size of Lake Erie.

The dog changed her life. From top to bottom. And her life needed changing.

Today in the US, there are upwards of 350,000 children in the foster system. Over 40 percent of those children will be homeless within a year of leaving foster care. Most stories don’t have a Hollywood ending.

Hers didn’t either. Still, when she left home, thankfully, she wasn’t homeless. She lived in a rental not far from the community college she attended. It was a rundown part of town, but it was enough room for her and the animal.

Throughout her college years she worked at fast-food restaurants, retail stores, and on lawn maintenance crews. She ate a lot of ramen. She kept studying Spanish. She cleaned up lots of pee.

A few months ago, her 14-year-old dog passed away from complications during surgery. But for this Christmas season, a handmade cedar box of ashes sits on her mantle, amidst holly and ivy. Along with a framed picture of an animal that almost seems to be smiling. The 27-year-old courtroom Spanish translator, and mother of two, says her life was saved by a dog named Sadie.

And she just wanted you to know about it.