Recently, I moved in with my girlfriend Leslie. And imagine this: one day, I come home from work and can’t find Frankie anywhere. And then Leslie goes, “Oh, Frankie? He’s back at the shelter! You seriously thought I’d allow that monster to be around my future child someday?”

OBVIOUSLY, I kicked her out and RAN to the shelter to take Frankie home. But when I got there, they dropped the bombshell that changed my whole future life. My dog .. …I rushed to the front desk, practically gasping for air. “Is Frankie here? My girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—brought him this morning. I need him back,” I blurted out.

I felt a twist in my gut. Was Frankie sick? I hurried down the hallway to the director’s office. She greeted me with a sad, gentle smile. “Your dog is safe,” she said immediately, noticing my panic. “But we discovered something in his blood work that you need to know.”