Furever My Companion

I met my fur baby at a shelter in 2015. The workers told me they found her wandering down a street a few days before. They assumed she had been abused, most likely by men, because when the male workers tried to interact with her, she flinched and huddled in a corner. I fell in love with her almost instantly. Her honey-colored eyes were mesmerizing. She had a beautiful tan coat, white paws, and one ear that always stood up. I held my hand to the gate, to show her I was not a threat. She stared at me from her corner, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Eventually, she walked to the gate. She sniffed me a few times with her cute red nose, then smiled at me. I knew we were meant for each other. They told me her name was Sweetie, but I could change it if I wanted to. I walked her around the outside play area, and we bonded.

I didn’t know how much I truly needed her until almost a year later. One day in March my sister called me hysterically crying. She could barely get the words out, but she eventually pulled herself together long enough to tell me my father passed away. I fell to my knees once I heard the news and began to cry. I was single and lived alone, so there was no one to console me. No one, except Sweetie. I’m not sure if she knew exactly what was happening, but she knew I needed to be comforted. As I sat on the floor, rocking back and forth holding myself, she pushed her head under my arm and stayed there with me until I mustered up enough energy to get up and sit on the couch. She rested her head in my lap all night.

Weeks passed by, and the sadness overtook me. I didn’t play with her like I used to. I would let her into the yard alone to play and do her business. One day, I went into the yard to let her inside, and she was gone. Panic filled me. I couldn’t figure out how she got out, or where she went. So many thoughts went through my mind. The biggest was what if I couldn’t find her. I couldn’t handle another loss.

I grabbed her favorite box of treats and leash, then went to search for her. I walked up and down the streets in my neighborhood, calling her name. Finally, she came running out of my neighbor's yard. She sprinted towards me. I thought her escapade was over. I leaned down once she got close, thinking she was going to sit in front of me and wait for a treat. Wrong. She sped right past me with her floppy ears bouncing and her tongue hanging out. She ran down the street and turned to see if I was following her. Once she realized I was, she continued to run down the street.

She would slow down, but every time I would get close to her, she took off. She created this game and thought I was playing along. All I wanted was to go back into the house, but she wasn’t letting me. She continued to run down the street until she found her way to the park in my neighborhood. We had been to the park multiple times, so she knew the way.

Once we got to the park, she forgot about me and ran around the open field. There were other dogs there, so she continued to play. I gave up trying to get her to come to me and sat on a bench. The park closed at sunset, so after an hour, her friends went home. Finally, she ran up to me and rested her head on my lap, which is when I realized what she was doing. In her own way, she was trying to get me out of the house, and she succeeded. She felt that I was going through something, and maybe she understood it, maybe she didn’t. All she knew was she needed to get me out to play with her. The love, loyalty, and care dogs show us is unfathomable. Since then, I have had some good days and bad days, but I’m so glad that I had my fur baby with me.