I met Cheetah at Pets Alive back in 2007. She was a senior dog even then, the matriarch of a group of semi-feral dogs that had been trapped nearly a decade ago at a building that was being torn down. She was the most feral of the group, and in a very special way: while the others had little experience with people and displayed a lot of fear, Cheetah was not afraid when we entered her pen. She had just made up her mind that the people thing wasn't for her.
Slowly but surely, Cheetah came to accept human beings... to a point. She enjoyed her walks, but she was always happiest and most comfortable in the presence of her pack, where she quietly ruled the roost - she lived with semi-ferals Tarzan and Lonesome and the dapper and fully socialized Stuart Noble. Adopted out twice, she came back to Pets Alive because she was unhappy living in houses with lots of human attention. She wanted her pen, her pack, and her familiar surroundings. She was happy at Pets Alive.
When I came back to New York after two years away, I could not believe she was the same dog. She actually approached me and solicited petting; she not only allowed herself to be picked up she actually seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps it was just the dementia of old age, but she was finally fully comfortable with human contact and was enjoying her life to the fullest.
Cheetah passed away on Oct 13, at the age of... well, very old. At least 13 or 14 and very possibly considerably older than that. I find myself not sad that she never went to a home, because that was what she chose for herself. I am happy that I got to know her.