It was a beautiful December evening in Dubai. The sky felt overcast, a cool breeze lifting the leaves of the trees along the sidewalk. I had just finished my assignment in Jumeirah, the area close to the beach. You could still see old houses with sandstone and coral walls, timber from Zanzibar, the edges crumbling - witness to the decades that had passed by.

I was walking back to my newspaper office, which was nearby. This was still the decade when people preferred print, and digital media was a distance away. As the workday had ended, it was the last assignment; I decided to take a quick detour to a pet shop nearby.

My husband and I had just brought home a black Labrador pup- sweet, gentle, with the kindest eyes I had ever seen. He was my first pup. I was learning, just as he was, bumbling along. Only much later did I realise that it was more a case of him training me rather than the other way around!

I wanted to pick up a couple of 'chew toys' for him, in the fervent hope that Rumpus would spare my shoes. He had, rather religiously, destroyed every right pair in my collection of shoes - built with care and extreme budgeting. These toys were meant to be a distraction.

As I opened the door of the store, a tiny dark brown ball of fur hurtled past, leaving a trail of shredded newspaper in its wake." Aww... little furry babies playing," I thought and walked on. At the counter, the shop owner seemed way more frazzled than usual, with one of his assistants leaning against the counter, smirking away. I asked what had happened. He pointed towards the fur ball, which had slowed down and now resembled a German Shepherd pup, and said: "The people who bought him have given him back. They don't want him. They want a refund. I told them he's a champion pedigree, but they found a hole in his heart! So, he'll die soon. They didn't want him. He's such a happy boy."

I was stunned. This couldn't be true. This little blazing puppy with eyes that seemed to see into your heart couldn't have been meted such a horrible fate! I picked him up, and somehow the cruelty hit me in my gut; he was all bones and fur. He hadn't been fed properly; the people who bought him had just dropped him back without much care or thought.

Tears streamed down my face as I called my husband and said I was bringing another puppy home! A dog lover who grew up in a home with 14dogs and 23 cats, he didn't hesitate for a second after hearing the little boy's story. He said: "Bring him home. Let him be happy as long as he has to live."

That's what I did. Paid for the costs the store had incurred, bundled him up, and drove home. Simba, my greatest puppy, came home. He lived for 11 years and forever in our hearts.