This little girl there in the public pound of Sparta, along with the rest of the dogs that roamed freely in the front. She was emaciated, with dermatological problems, sad and quiet, but there.

At every moment, as we were looking from outside, and when we walked in, she was there. She was looking at the people taking the other dogs from the cages, at the volunteers who were cleaning up, at the people transporting the dogs outside. As if she was trying to participate without annoying us, just being present, trying to understand what was going on. She was so present that we have her in countless photos and countless videos from that day. We had already picked up most of the dogs when in the end we got her too.

She was one of the last dogs to come out of there that day, she saw the space she knew changing around her in a few hours, and sometimes we wonder what she was thinking as she watched us come and go, before she realized that she would not just be a spectator, but she would also leave with the others.

The thing with Mellie is not that she has recovered, that she has gained weight and that she has become beautiful. It is that she is the sweetest, most easy-going and tender creature in the world, and Mellie, which means honey in Greek, is the most fitting name for her. She has a kindness and a sweetness in her ways, which are rare, and she is an easy easy. Easy to love, easy to be around, easy to communicate and live with.