I was 5 years old and I knew exactly what I wanted – a cat. Our family Golden Retriever also wanted a cat but for very different reasons. My mom with her infinite wisdom knew this wouldn’t work so she brought me into the research process to find a solution.
She began by showing me books on breeds. First thing she looped me in on – they were dogs… I agreed but only if it was also small and had long, fluffy fur that covered its dog features. We picked one breed that had a short nose and a little face, the Shih-Tzu.
I wasn’t involved in the logistics from there. All I knew was that I got to miss a day of kindergarten to choose my new friend with my mom and grandma. I have four very specific memories from that day. That I ate cereal for breakfast. We drove hours and hours to find this new friend. He pooped in the cardboard box we brought him home in. And that between those long car rides there was an unspoken spark of chemistry.
The breeder’s house was filled with animals, a few Great Danes, some parrots and tons of tiny fur ball puppies. My mom’s tactic was to go in, show me the girl puppies, encourage me to pick the healthiest one, get her papers, pay the breeder and be on our way. But her power was relinquished. The puppy heavens opened up and sent me some sort of powerful message that my cat/dog/new best friend wasn’t one of the eager girl puppies excited to meet me, but instead, in a small group of sleepy fur balls on the floor, a boy puppy misfit. The breeder warned us that he had one blue eye and one brown eye, a hernia and that he would need some extra work done to neuter him. I heard these details but in a blur becasue I did not care, plus I was only 5. He was mine. I don’t know why my mom agreed to move forward with the puppy I chose but the next thing I knew, this dog was in the back seat with me and we were soul mates.
I got exactly what I wanted. When we got our puppy home, he proved to be more and more of a cat every day. He would let out a puppy yawn that sounded like a meow. He rarely licked and was very mellow. Yet he barked, played and became protective of me, showing the loyalty of a dog. He proved to me that this was a more valuable relationship than I could have ever understood at the time.
In the mornings he would run in and jump on my bed to sniff my face, never lick, but always excitedly sniff and tickle with his long fur and whiskers. We would take him up north, and I would pet his back methodically for hours to keep him calm in the car. We would reluctantly take him to get his long fur groomed, and my grandma would help me deal with the sassy groomers.
When you own a dog for 17 years, you learn a lot. A lot about him, about yourself, about pets, about love, and about companionship.
He always loved my grandma. Maybe she helped convince my mom to let me get him. Maybe he was helping to point me to her, showing me how important she would be in my life. Maybe he sensed something in me I wasn’t attuned enough to pick up on yet. Looking back, I see my grandma and him were like my childhood team.
The hard part about this now is that this team of mine was always doing things for me. I was too young to realize this and to do for them. I didn’t understand. They were nurturing me. I couldn’t be the bigger person or the one to give back. They selflessly gave to me, put up with me, supported me, and were there for me no matter what mood or interest I had. They helped me be a kid.
I had this support from my grandma until I was 17 and from my dog until I was 22. I knew them both for 17 years of my life…I never put that connection together before now.
You know, when you’re a pre-teen and you start to define yourself. Well I knew then that 17 was my favorite number, with no clear reason why. It’s 2017 now as I write this.
She has been gone for 10 years this month, and he has been gone for 5. I am only now just beginning to take big steps forward but I often feel deep fear and longing for what I used to have. I miss their lightness. The way they made me feel safe. The way they knew me. The way he would bark at someone and growl if he thought they were hurting me. And the way she would stand up to anyone who didn’t have my best interest in mind. I could be my true self around them, unguarded.
I’m so grateful to have played on their team.