When I met Superman.
When I met Superman he was in a crib. All shiny and fragile and pinkish white.
So delicate, yet his cry could arouse the whole nurses ward.
His mom lay panting. My mom was grinning in delight.
Months and months of search, prospective adoptions, what not!
We came the day after, and again the next. He was always sleeping.
The fourth day, I wasn't so hopeful.
But that day he opened his eyes, and gave a 'woof'. He lay in the classic Superman pose. One paw outstretched and the tail wagging as though the cape was billowing in the wind. That day, I knew. I didn't need Clark Kent to be my Superman. No, I had found one in the German Shepherd lying in the crib.
When I met Superman, I was hooked. It was the start of something beautiful.