Tales of a Reborn San Franciscan

“Dog Tales”

On February 21 of this year [2001], I went to the San Diego Humane Society with the idea that I would be getting a dog so that my disabled great-aunt would have some company during the day, something to make her happy even though she was in constant pain and was limited in everyday skills.

Before we went to the Humane Society, I looked at their Web site. The pet of the week was a Pomeranian mix named Big Daddy. His previous owner had relinquished him because he became allergic. He was at the shelter for almost three weeks. When we arrived at the shelter, my aunt and I looked at a dachshund mix, but that dog didn’t like children. I wanted a dog that everyone in my family could interact with, and that’s what I told Paula, the animal handler. To my surprise, Paula brought out Big Daddy. No one had adopted him yet. Until now. Someone said he was waiting just for me. We renamed him Chewy and brought him home that afternoon.

I’m sure a lot of people, even those who have dogs themselves, are going to think I am weird for loving this animal so much. My father even pointed out that as a child I was afraid of dogs. But when I first saw Chewy, I wanted him to live with us. Although he weighs twenty pounds, he is the perfect lap dog. He lies down next to me and rolls on his back so that I can scratch his belly, every chance he gets. He follows me around and gets sad when I leave the house.

Before I got this dog, this little auburn bundle of fur, I researched the hell out of pet care. This was my first pet, and I wanted to do it right the first time. And even if dogs don’t have feelings (I am certain that they do), I didn’t want to traumatize this dog because I couldn’t care for him. I read everything, from books to Web sites. I knew I was prepared to take care of Chewy.

The first night we got him, he slept in his kennel and I slept on the couch nearby. I woke up several times during the night to make sure he was OK. I don’t know when he slept because he was always awake when I looked at him. As the weeks grew to months, and I had never missed walking him for a single day, I never knew that I could care this much for something that wasn’t a human being. Now he sleeps in my room, on my feet or on the floor next to the bed.

One night I came home crying, and no one was around to console me except for Chewy. He jumped up on my lap and tried to lick the tears away. He smiled his little doggie smile at me, and instantly I felt cheered. It was like pouring my heart out without saying a word. My world has never been the same since we found each other.

It disheartens me to hear of people who have dogs and leave them in the backyard without human or canine contact, except to feed or water. What’s the point of a dog if not for companionship? I don’t understand it. I have sacrificed a lot for Chewy. When I would rather spend time out or a weekend away, I stay home because I know that my dog needs me. I can’t afford a pet hotel (kennel), but I took on the responsibility of this pet when I decided to adopt him. Besides, an afternoon with Chewy is almost like taking a mini-vacation … and it’s free.

I wonder how my life would have been different if I hadn’t gotten Chewy. I might have stayed in San Diego, where it is easier and cheaper to find a place to live without him. But I don’t regret it. All the pain and heartache that I had to go through to keep him is outweighed by the joy he brings to my family and me. As many people know, I can sometimes be hard to love, and sometimes I feel as though Chewy loves me unconditionally. And yet a small part of me knows that the reason he loves me so much is because I love him and try to give him the best I can. His presence in my life reminds me to remember to love my family and friends because of their love for me.

It’s a lesson we all can learn.