A dog rescuer in eastern Kentucky and a copywriter in Minneapolis

Fifty-four. Regional manager at a building supply company during the week, runs a dog rescue out of his property on weekends and evenings. Eight dogs on the place right now, three his own, five fosters. The fosters move on within about two months.

His niece had nagged him into trying Twos. He picked up because the dogs were piled on the porch and it was the closest thing to peace he had had all week.

Twenty-eight. Copywriter at an ad agency. Has one cat named Penny, adopted two years ago from a shelter where Penny had sat for eleven months after she bit a kid on day three and got labeled difficult.

Penny has not bitten anyone in her apartment. Penny has hissed at one guy she dated, which she took as a vote. The cat is the love of her life.

She asked him to describe all eight dogs. He laughed and said it would take ten minutes. She said she had time, and she meant it. They went through the cast: a one-eyed beagle named Wesley who slept on his feet because Wesley did not really understand he was a dog, a German shepherd named Mae who had been returned three different times and was just going to live with him now.

She told him about Penny and the difficult label. He said the shelter system has to make fast decisions and they are not always right. He said some animals just need a slower person than the world keeps giving them.

They were on for almost twenty-two minutes. Afterward she sat on the floor with Penny and didn't pick up her phone.