I adopted a rescue dog a few years ago. He was a very old, crippled Shitzhu/Terrier mix that someone found wandering on the side of the road. They called him, 'Pigpen' at the shelter because of his matted hair. A coworker adopted him for her kids, but they ended up dragging him across the floor, so she was going to bring him back, but I told her I'd take him. I cried the first night I had him because he had this horrible limp and I wondered if I shouldn't just put him down. He could not bark. However, he seemed happy and loved his treats, and got around pretty good, but I spent a lot of sleepless nights because he would get 'seizures' and I'd have to cuddle him and calm him.
I had the fellow for 18 months and loved him dearly until he got to the point where I had to put him down. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do - decide whether another being should live or die. You can't ask a dog if it's their time. Anyway, after I put him down and spent some time saying, 'Goodbye', I went into the vets lounge and this big, fat cat with the same markings as Freddy came out into the lobby looking like he had suddenly been roused from sleep. He just came right in the middle of the lobby and sat in front of my family. The receptionist and other staffers were surprised and said they'd never seen him do that. I took it as a 'Goodbye' from Freddy.
Fast forward to a couple months ago. My sister and nephew decided they were finally ready for a puppy. A coworker had some chiweenies she was selling so I told my sister about them. My mom, sister, nephew and I were going out to lunch and my sister decided to give my co-worker a call before we left because she was so ready to get the chiweenie, so she called my coworker, but my coworker was hesitant to sell her a chiweenie until all her close friends and family had had a pick. My sister felt she didn't want to sell the dog to her for some reason. My mom piped in, 'Don't worry. The right dog will just happen for you.'
Well, we went out to eat and were talking about the puppy when the waitress (a real sweetheart of a girl) overheard us and told us she had one last puppy to sell. My sister was interested and we set up a time. The puppy was a Shitzhu and he was called, 'Porker'. To make a long story short, my sister and nephew now have 'Porker', which they named, 'Tommy'. OMG, he is so cute, and when I come to visit, he is so happy to see me and he barks at you as if he's talking, LOL. Part of me wonders if he's not my 'Pigpen/Freddy'. I even slipped and called him 'Freddy' once. He's so like him, but then again, he could be another soul that's just as special. Makes you wonder, eh? I'd always felt he'd come back to me - and I'd get to see how he was before he had been abused and crippled. It had always haunted me. I do believe in reincarnation, but know that Freddy probably had longtime owners that he loved before I came along, and may have opted to go back to them if he indeed reincarnated as a dog.
I should mention that I would not have gotten another dog because I have my beloved Chow, and she's 13 years old and has arthritis now. I need to give her my full attention. She's gotten old and cranky and would not tolerate another dog in the house. Even if Tommy is not Freddy, I am getting to see what Freddy was like when he was younger.
Aside: My nephew named 'Tommy' after some odd director ('The Room', I think). My daughter named 'Freddy' after Freddy Mercury.