I needed another dog at my rescue like I needed a hole in my head. I was maxed out on fosters, my trainers were working overtime and the rescue was surviving on donations....but I saw a picture of Yoda on the NYCACC kill list and he pulled on my heart strings. His eyes spoke to me, he was so sad and it was like he had given up and I just couldn't leave him. I packed myself a little lunch and filled my car with gas for the 5 hour trip from Baltimore to New York. I hate road trips but I didn't want the dog that I had already dubbed mine to spend another night in the shelter. I got to the shelter and walked the long line of kennels filled with so many unwanted dogs. I couldn't stop and look at them, I could barely take the dog I had come for, I definitely couldn't take another one. I found Yoda's kennel and he looked up but didn't get up, he was broken. I used my best puppy voice to try to lure him towards me, I got a tail wag. I asked a volunteer to bring him out so we could interact and the volunteer lit up. "OH, you're here for Yoda, EVERYONE here loves him." I asked her why he hadn't been adopted and she explained that because he was so depressed he only ate when hand fed and so he was marked for rescue only. Poor baby. Yoda came out of the kennel and walked slowly over to me and leaned his entire body on me. We walked out of that shelter and he never looked back, he never questioned who I was and where I was taking him, he just accepted me and that I was helping him, and I knew I was right to make the trip for him. I knew Yoda was a little too broken to be a Service Dog, he didn't have the spunk but he had the calm, loving presence of a Therapy Dog. Yoda and I grabbed a slice of NYC pizza and that he took gently out of my fingers despite how skinny he was, and we left the city that hadn't been very kind to him.