A volunteer writes: As a confirmed, boring Manhattanite, I rarely get the opportunity to visit our other boroughs, Brooklyn among them. Brooklyn is for the young and for the happening; for the interesting; the cutting edge. Brooklyn is the group of friends in the corner booth, laughing too loudly and having much more fun than you ever will. Brooklyn is the place to be. So how fortunate was I to have my very own Brooklyn dropped right into my lap. A shiny, grey mouse in a seal pup vessel, 4 year-old Brooklyn has clearly loved and been loved. She once shared a home with young children and would await their return at the front door each day, flopping down for belly rubs the moment they did. On our first meeting, Brooklyn is understandably uncertain. I am not her people. And the door that once swung open to warm embrace has been replaced by a kennel that is most-often locked. Still, Brooklyn puts her best foot forward, and off for a walk we go. She pants lightly, though it is not a warm day. She tends to her business, then pulls slightly on leash, stopping often to explore our busy streets. Free in a pen, she sniffs toys without interest (I later learn socks are her game!) and takes treats often and gently. It is only when I sit on our bench that Brooklyn suddenly is at ease. She immediately joins me, fitting her plump, silver self perfectly into the crook of my arm. I realize this is the first familiar thing to her. We could easily be curled up on the sofa waiting for our favorite program to air. She leans against me and turns for a belly rub, and as I oblige, I win my first smile of the day. Our Brooklyn may be young and interesting, but she is not cutting edge. She is all that you are. And she isn''t having any more fun than you. If you aren''t having fun, then neither is she. Brooklyn is a Friday night in, a lazy Sunday in bed, a quiet laugh shared between you and a friend. Yes, Brooklyn is the place to be. And she''s waiting in adoptions at Manhattan''s ACC.