How My Husband Became My Wife and why I stayed

I'm a dog person. Angela is too - now. You see, David figured dogs were okay, but just okay. He'd pet them, but he regarded them as mine. There were three incidences involving dogs that actually showed me that the transition was the absolute correct choice:

Late October 1997, when David was cross-dressing frequently, I came home on a dark, rainy night and found an emaciated, deaf, old, ill English Cocker Spaniel in my back yard. I was dumbfounded that he had taken in this foundling.
November 1998, when David was cross dressing except when at work, we purchased a six-week-old Bichon puppy and dubbed her Kathryn the Great. She became totally involved with this dog, holding and playing with it frequently. The step between tenderly caring for Geri and total acceptance of Kathryn was remarkable.
Mid September 1999, Angela called from work to tell me she'd be late. I wonder, what’s up, because s/he always rushed home to change into Angela. More than an hour later, while I was stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce, s/he walked in, gave me a “hello” kiss, and walked on. Kathryn the Great followed, and then there was a tiny, little puff-of-white strutting along behind them.
“It followed me home, Mommy. Can I keep it?” Angela, although still dressed as David, said. It was then that I decided that David was like the Grinch – a changed person. The hormones weren't just changing him physically and emotionally. I could see that his heart had grown twice its size.

These incidences showed me that s/he was completely and totally a changed person. I was certain, then, that she should move on to become the woman she needed to be, including the surgery.