Love for animals runs in my family. My aunt helped found and directs the only humane society in her rural Pennsylvania County and ever since I was little I loved volunteering there during summer or holiday visits. Throughout the years, her perseverance and consistent effort to help the helpless has inspired me. I will never forget a brown wirey haired dog named Wiley. He was found as a terrified, pitifully thin puppy, who was tied to a dilapidated dog house with a two foot chain and no food or water. At the humane society, Wiley shrunk to the corner of his cage and bared his teeth at anyone who walked by. Despite his aggressive demeanor, when I saw him something stuck. For days I spent hours sitting quietly outside his open cage. I made no progress in changing his attitude, until one day he shyly brought his muzzle to a treat I had offered just outside of his cage. I was ecstatic. With more patience and attention I was soon trusted enough to pet him. A few weeks later my aunt informed me that Wiley had been adopted and I deserved credit for his second chance at life. Knowing I made a difference was one of the most liberating feelings and ever since I have found the greatest satisfaction in helping the vulnerable.