Three months after Jasper came home with me, the shelter called again.

This time, the woman on the phone sounded almost embarrassed.

“There’s something else,” she said carefully. “We found another item in storage that belonged to Jasper’s original owner. We didn’t realize it was mixed in with donation boxes.”

I looked over at Jasper.

He was asleep beside the couch, paws twitching faintly in a dream.