Gee-ja-mo

This is Gizmo. He's a freakin' good boy.

To be very frank with you, he is probably something like Gizmo the 4th, because all of our dogs have always been named Gizmo. As Korean immigrants, my parents had very limited English, and the name “Gizmo” was peculiarly very easy for them to remember but horribly difficult for them to say, funnily enough. It sounds more like “Gee-ja-mo” when they say it. I don't quite know where or how they first learned of the name, but it seemed to have really made an impression on them. Nonetheless, that’s how we arrived at this Gizmo, my best friend Gizmo.

I love Gizmo. Besides my family, I have never loved another living thing as much as I’ve loved this good boy. This is his origin story and how he came to be my dog, and not my mom’s dog as was intended.

Part 1

Gizmo arrived at my parents' home in April of 2017. Honestly, how he came to be in our lives was intentional in the end, but kind of unintentional in the beginning. You see, my mom has always wanted a tiny, cute, fluffy dog that she could carry around in her purse and absolutely adore and give all her attention to in her old age. Her kids were all out of the nest and she needed something to take care of, but as you’ll come to find out, my siblings and I have always wanted to give that to her, but unfortunately, somehow we have never been able to deliver.

Expectations:

Reality:

For the last few years, my mom had really been wanting either a snow-white Pomchi (a half Pomeranian, half Chihuahua) or a teacup Yorkie and had been whispering her desires into the wind every time we came to visit – and what I mean by that is that she was pretty much dropping not so subtle hints every time a holiday that presented itself as an opportunity for gifts came around.

To give us kiddos some credit, finding a teacup doggie is a lot harder than you'd think. Breeders want absurd amounts of money for them and countless online articles about scams pretty much make you suspicious of every single website you come across. It also didn’t help that at the time when we were looking for our next "Gizmo", all of us were in pretty tight financial situations. I was finishing up my senior year in college and in the prime of my good ole living-off-of-ramen days. My eldest brother had a very difficult year after losing his marriage and his business, so pitching in for a dog was at the bottom of his priority list, while my eldest sister’s restaurant burned down the months prior and she was scrambling to pick up the pieces of her once stable life. My other big sister had just medically retired from the military and was trying to figure out what she wanted to do next. My second eldest brother, well, honestly he was doing really well, but we always split things as fairly as possible so I didn’t want to ask him for all the money. Now, I'm frontloading my story with this knowledge to make it sound less crude when I say we were all being straight-up cheapos when looking for a cute pup for our mom.

Well, one day, an ad come up on Craigslist for a Pomchi! Now I know what you’re thinking – Craigslist is probably one of the shadiest places to buy a dog, but you know what, life is about taking chances, and also when you’re balling on a budget, your rational mind is a bit more forgiving, especially when looking at very affordable prices. My sister saw the ad on Craigslist and she couldn't believe it. There was no way! There was a “Pomchi” listed for sale and it was only $180! My sister, being the diligent person she is, called the number listed on the ad and began to interrogate the sellers.

The sellers gave an absolutely moving speech about how they lived on a farm. They clamied to have had a lifelong passion for animals, and expressed sorrowfully how they never understood how anyone could sell puppies for profit, and how they just wanted to make sure that this pup went to a good home. They also mentioned that the price listed on the ad was only to cover what they spent on his shots. Seemed legit, right? My sister wasn’t so convinced, but she agreed to set up a meeting with the sellers and my parents. Now here’s the important part – she asked them to bring the puppy and the puppy’s birth parents to verify that he was indeed half-Pomeranian and half-Chihuahua. They said “No problem”.

My parents arrived at the designated meeting spot and were greeted by a very charming young couple, who by the way, did not at all look like they lived on a farm, but then again what are who reside on farms supposed to look like, right? Red flag? Maybe, but let's see the pup. They were very tactful in how they went about this meeting. Normally, you’d probably show the puppy first as that’s what the buyer came all the way to see, but they did not show the puppy first. Red flag? Hmm, my suspicions are starting to bubble in the pit of my stomach. After buttering up my parents, they brought out two adult dogs – a beautiful all-white female Pomeranian and a tiny but very handsome little male Chihuahua. My mom clapped her hands together with glee and took a breath. Her dream puppy! She was sold! The sellers let my parents pet the pair, but explained carefully how the puppy they were about to show my parents was the runt of the litter, so he looked a little different than his parents. Oh, that's for sure a giant red flag waving up and down on a jumbotron. The sellers walked over to their car and brought out a cage far too large for a 6-week old puppy, and when the cage finally came into view, it revealed a tiny little creature cowering in the corner.

Looking back, we all laugh at the story now, and my mom confessed that she knew immediately that there was absolutely no way the little puppy was a Pomchi. She knew it from the moment she saw him, with his head disproportionately large compared to his body, wiry short hair, big floppy ears, and paws that were bigger than both his adult “mother's” and “father's” paws. Although she knew this, my mom is actually a big softie with a crusty exterior, so when she looked into that shaking little puppy’s eyes and he nuzzled his tiny pink nose in her palm, she knew she had to bring him home. She also didn’t want him to go back to who knows where with those scammers. And thus, that’s how Gizmo came to live in my parent’s home.

Part 2

I, the graduate of a top-tier university, I, who went to said top-tier university on a full-ride scholarship, who prior to that graduated valedictorian of my high school and held titles such as "Student Council President", "Senior Class Vice President", and captain of the track team. I, the pride of family and the embodiment of my parents’ American Dream…

I dropped out of grad school after 1 week and had a mental breakdown. I had only lived in San Francisco for 2 months when my sister took the first flight she could get on to take me back home. She didn’t ask me about what happened at all the entire 17-hour drive home. She was just happy I was alive and she held me tight and cried every time we stopped. You see, my siblings and I all have different fathers, and my sister’s father committed suicide, leaving two labeled bullets behind – one for my mom, and one for my sister who was only a month old. Needless to say, my sister, who is 22 years older than me, made sure she brought me home herself.

When I came home from San Francisco, I had fallen into a deep depression that stripped me of all my ego, humbled me, and kicked me forward into a journey of self-love and self-discovery. My parents, to my pleasant surprise, welcomed me home with open arms, but they had to leave for work for a few months. They didn't want me to be home alone, so they left Gizmo with me. He was only about 5 months old, supposedly, but I was skeptical because he was very underdeveloped for a 5-month-old puppy. My family had forced me to take a break for the fall semester to take some time for myself to relax and recover for a few months. With all the time in the world and no one to really spend it with, except for my friends who took turns visiting me almost every single day to make sure I was okay and to cheer me up, all I had was Gizmo.

Gizmo turned out to be everything I needed to start me on the process of healing. At a time when I was feeling so low, he was always there looking up at me. When I was feeling like a failure and unworthy of love, Gizmo's eyes would light up whenever I came home and he jumped up and down with uncontainable joy. When I didn't want to get out of bed, Gizmo would cry to be taken care of, and I would be forced to move my body and be there for him. We went on long walks together and I got much needed sunshine. We had our meals together, and that made sure I ate. We cuddled and watched all the worst movies, and we went to the dog park where I was forced to open myself back up again to the rest of the world. Gizmo slowly but surely brought life back into me. He was by my side everyday, every hour – he took care of me, and I took care of him. He was the best companion I could have ever asked asked for, and I think he helped save my life.

Gizmo is scruffy and looks like an old man, and everyone gives him a hard time because he isn’t as “cute” and “fluffy” as all the other dogs in our family, but to me, Gizmo is the sweetest and most handsome boy in the world. Over time, my family realized just how much he meant to me, and sure enough, they started to see the qualities that I saw. Nowadays, whenever we visit, I catch them giving him a couple of cuddles when I’m not looking so that they don’t hear me shout across the room, “Awwwwww! You like him!”

Gizmo lets me hold him until I tell him it’s okay to move – until he lets me know that I’m okay and I can move. He nuzzles his now black nose in my palm when he needs a little love, and I press my face into the scruff of his neck when I need a little love. He never leaves my side and waits patiently for me always, even in the bathroom, much to my dismay.

He begs for food without an ounce of shame, cleans himself and tries to give people kisses right after, hoards all of his toys, and he sleeps unnaturally with his head on my pillow and his body under the sheets. I bought a king-size mattress to make sure my partner and I had enough room to share with him, but somehow, Gizmo makes sure that we are never comfortable and always squished.

Gizmo has made my life better in every single way. He has been with me through my worst, and now he gets to enjoy life with me through my best. I'm blessed to walk this life beside him and I can't wait to see what adventures await us. I think Gizmo is strong contender for the title of "emPAWyee of the month", because he's already won the title of "emPAWyee of my life", and I think that makes his resume really stand out!