Finding Comfort in the Chaos

Ten years of life had been dedicated to a doting dog. He was praised, beloved by many, and spoiled beyond most. I had had him since he was a puppy; given to me with a heart murmur and undeveloped lung. We had been given a warning from the vet that we’d only get two months and yet together we beat the odds. Over time his heart had outgrown the murmur and his lung fully developed. Everyone joked that it was love which healed him but I knew they were right. We completed each other because he found me when I, too, was broken with no spare parts to heal what was missing inside. As the years went on he made whole what did not exist before and taught me how to love while accepting love in return. That was what led to the horrendous sorrow that came the day he died. November 7th of 2019 my world drastically changed and he was gone.

With all the pain weighing heavy on the heart, service came to mind. Inside I felt like I was alone and for the first time in ten years there was no direction that made sense. The only one that came to mind was visiting the local animal shelters to mourn my loss with other dogs who may have been mourning the loss of their owners. Each facility came and went but a sudden realization struck; he would not be there because he was gone. No other dog compared and yet as I made rounds, at the last location, sat a pup with heterochromia eyes and for a moment we exchanged glances. He looked hopeless and scared; mimicking the internal battle that I was facing at the time. Yet, it was too soon and so I moved past him and went home. With each new day something inside grew an overwhelming desire to return and every time that I saw him, he was so popular and played with. We had never gotten a chance to really meet. Each time I swore he was closer to being adopted. Then he never was.

On the fourth day we locked eyes once again and finally I agreed to take him outside to play. The sky was blue and his energy infectious. Though it still felt wrong to want him. The young woman helping us must have seen my hesitancy as she remarked, “he really seems to like you. We’ve had him two months and he hasn’t ever listened to someone until now.” The words sounded so heartfelt but were instantly critiques in my mind as a lie. Though just as I went to speak my argument, he came up to me and sat calm in front of my feet. With a wide smile and so much light in his eyes; this husky jumped his two front paws up and into my lap. Still I felt uncertain but it was the only moment I had felt relief in such an agonizing time. His tail waived back and forth but never did a bark erupt from his lips. Still he pushed off and began running in circles as if he had something extraordinary to prove. He was special and it was easy to see.

As we brought him back inside there was another couple that asked to play with a ball of energy that had two-tone eyes. They had him out for all of five minutes before he was being brought back to the kennel, once more locked up. Onward I went, while looking at other dogs along the way. Two kennels over was where the words traveled to my ears. “Honey, we cannot take him home. He’s so... extra, energetic, spastic, and hard to keep up with. He’d be too high maintenance and would require too much attention. This is not our dog. We should get the puppy instead.” As they walked away he loudly cried and it was then he could be seen pushing his entire body against the door as he hung his head in extreme dismay. It brought curiosity to the mind. Was this why nobody else would take him home?

Technically I had 30 more minutes to decide if I would release him but it had only been four days and I was convinced that getting another dog would diminish the existence of my ten year old friendship. The words that the last couple spoke continued to ring in my head and without much thought a small laugh came up from the back of the throat. That laugh grew and tears soon followed. All I could think and keep replaying, all that was on my mind; was the many times I had heard others say the same exact things about me. It was at that moment that I knew he was coming home. We would somehow make it work. November 11th, 2019, Luka became a new part of my family.

Depression does an odd thing to the mind. It twists and torments, making beautiful things ugly. Lies begin filling the crevices of appreciation and hopes become dreams that turn into nightmares. My head spun with the very fearful idea that I would never be worthy of love again, that the only living thing that witnessed my internal demons was now gone and therefore I was alone. Even in the company of a brand new dog - I felt alone. Somehow though, he didn’t much mind. He wouldn’t sleep and if he did he’d perk up the moment any slight movement had been made. It was soon discovered that he had been abused and made into a bait dog; used to entice others to fight. He had long since shut off his voice and it became clear that he had been hurt when trying to vocalize as most huskies do. His traumas ran deep and again we were similar. Somehow, in the midst of all the silence between us, we both grieved separate things in the comfort of each other’s company.

I watched as days turned into weeks and little by little he further exposed his gentle heart. Then, before we knew it, Christmas time had arrived. The mourning of my last dog was still fresh and his birthday had been the 25th of December. We always celebrated with new toys, happy dancing, and excitement in the home. This was new and memories had not yet been created. As the Eve came to a close it was apparent that other means of entertainment had to transpire before thoughts became darker. Unfortunately, this loss had grown into a depression that led me to leaving Luka at home. I had been driving around when the wrong song came on at exactly the right time. Anger flooded my body and coursed through me with such an unfamiliarity that I had to park. To the right of the car was the same lake we spent his last days together and above it was a bridge we often walked.

That night my mind was against me and I made my way up to that bridge with the intent to harm myself or be done with life. To most - this was just a dog. To me, he was the only living thing that knew my darkest secrets and understood my mental illness. The overwhelming pain grew and just as I was about to act upon a terrible impulse, Luka came to mind. Who would take care of him? Would anyone find him? He’d be alone on Christmas morning and another person would have abandoned him. As angry as I was, as hurt as I felt, I couldn’t bring myself to do that to him. So I sobbed and screamed into my jacket sleeves until I was numb enough to climb back down. Only then could I bring myself to get back into the car and drive home.

That night his ears perked up as I entered through the door and when I turned on the light there was a soft goofy smile that curved the sides of his mouth. Slowly one shoe came off and then the other. Extra layers of clothing came undone and once nearer to him there was a ping of guilt that choked down tears. That night I opened his kennel and he climbed into my lap. We spent the rest of the evening like that. Here was the rescue, a mighty pup with a huge heart, that barely knew me. Yet, in that moment we understood one another clearly. I have no idea what could have happened had he not been waiting at home. However, I do know that those weeks turned into months and with each passing moment he became more comfortable as he too began to heal with love. He began to feel safe and even started to sing. His voice was more beautiful than anything I had ever heard and soon we began filling our home with new moments that became cherished memories. We had finally chosen each other and today we’ve come to build a life on the principle; love can heal all.