Need is a funny word. It implies that the thing we are hoping to acquire is directly related to our existence. We would simply perish without it. So yes, I probably didn’t need a third dog. No, scratch that. I definitely didn’t need a third dog on that warm August day in 2011. The big brown eyes staring back at me from the computer monitor suggested otherwise. I looked down at the basset hound stretched out on the floor below me, my foot idly stroking his white and brown fur. “What do you think, Tuck? Do we need another friend?” Tucker thumped his tail and rolled over onto his back so that his belly was fully exposed for proper petting. If you wanted a happy, ready-for-anything, easy going dog Tucker was your guy. I was certain he’d love a new friend. A more playful friend. Maggie was great as far as companions went, but the dopey little French bulldog with his smooshed up face wasn’t what you’d cal...