The short version: This is what happiness feels like: "Mo" went home today. His family, and he & they together, are perfect.
The slightly longer version: Mo's new canine brother's been doing poorly in the wake of his family's aged dog's death. It wasn't just that the family wanted another dog in the house. Mo's new brother, bereft without his buddy, needed one. The grieving dog came into the room with his tail between his legs. Mo crossed to him immediately and the two smelled each other out. In a matter of a minute or two, Mo's brother was a changed dog. He didn't need to stick closely to his human dad, searching his face for assurance that everything was fine. He was lit up--tail high, eyes happy, coming to one and all to say hello. But mostly Mo.
Mo also has two human brothers. The five-year old kept hugging Mo (he stood still and wagged his tail) and telling him that there were toys waiting for him at home. When he wasn't hugging his new dog (or his other dog), Mo was licking his face. In glee upon learning Mo could go home with him that day, he hugged me several times.
Mo's parents know young labs, active labs, separation anxiety. They clearly love dogs and have no illusions about the work and committment that bringing one into your life entails. They weren't looking for 'perfect,' and yet.
I don't know these people, I may never see them again in my life. But this was one of the best days--most rewarding, heart-warming, genuine--of my entire life.
Thank you, Mo.