Moon Dog

There is something magical about a solar eclipse. Something that makes it feel like anything is possible. During the "Great American Eclipse" in August of 2017, I know I felt that way. I was in Columbia, South Carolina, one of the best places in the country to see the total eclipse. I was just starting my sophomore year of college, and life felt like my oyster. There I was, sitting cross-legged on a blanket in Maxcy Gregg Park, black-tinted glasses on, and eyes pointing towards the sky. The sun was just about covered, only a few more moments and it would be completely hidden behind the moon.

Then, it happened. Not the eclipse; well, that happened too, but that's not the it I'm talking about. The it I'm talking about is a 62 pound, black and white, drooling, terrified dog...suddenly in my lap.

You see, when the world went dark for a few minutes, lots of animals seemed to get confused. Birds started cooing their nightly songs, squirrels stopped their usual incessant chatter, and cicadas began to buzz. This smelly dog, now squarely in my lap, must've gotten confused, too. To be more precise, he must've gotten scared at the sudden change in the world around him. No, not even the word "scared" covers what he seemed to be feeling. He must've gotten heart-pounding, eye-bulging, breath-racingly terrified. Because that was exactly the kind of state he was in when he barreled into my lap.

Luckily, for both his sake and mine, I am a dog lover. So, when this stray dog suddenly appeared in my lap, I was instantly delighted. Shocked, yes, but also delighted. For some reason, out of the couple dozen people scattered around the park staring at the sun, this slobbery guy chose me. It was enough validation for me to immediately feel like this was meant to be. I had been thinking about getting a dog for a while but, ever the procrastinator, kept putting it off. Now that this dog had literally fallen into my lap, I knew it was my sign to become a dog parent.

My first plan of action was to take this skinny, stinky boy to a vet. I had no idea where he came from or how long he had been out on his own, but it was apparent he hadn't been cared for in a while. His black and white coat was dull and streaked with dirt. His ribs were visible and poking out enough to feel sharp against my body. Since he was burrowed in my lap, I was too afraid to check if he had fleas but, being in the south, the obvious answer was yes.

I slowly stood up and reached out my hand to him. He licked it immediately and wagged his dirty tail. I took a few hesitant steps to see if he would follow me. He did. Apparently, this dog had decided he was mine, and I was more than okay with that. Even from our brief moments together, I could tell he was a sweet boy who needed a second chance at life. I was excited to be the one who gave that to him.

We walked slowly back to my car. He was limping just a bit and, since I had no leash, I was nervous he might decide to turn and run at any moment. Little did I know that this pup would be attached to my hip from now on. Once we made it to my car, I lifted him onto the passenger seat, feeling his frail form in my arms and getting a wet lick on the face. We drove to the vet, who had a soft spot in her heart for strays and agreed to take us even though we didn't have an appointment.

After a full body checkup, the vet said my new fluffy baby was in surprisingly good shape, all things considered. He was definitely underweight and slightly skittish, but, with regular feeding and human interaction, she was confident those would no longer be issues. Just knowing that he was starved of both food and love made me feel even more ready to keep his belly full and his heart happy. When the vet asked if I needed help taking him to an animal shelter, I proudly proclaimed that I was keeping him as my own. We had found each other, fair and square. It was only right we stayed together.

"Well, in that case, we need a name to put on his forms," she said.

I thought for a moment and looked down at the dirty, adorable mess of a dog laying at my feet. The thing that drove him to me was his fear of the sudden darkness brought on by the solar eclipse, so I knew he loved the sun. He must have had lots of strength too, having survived on his own with only a little malnourishment to show for it.

"Apollo," I said, confidently. "His name is Apollo, after the Greek god of the sun."

As if he already knew this name, Apollo looked up at me and wagged his tail.

We left the vet together, both excited about our adventures to come. Adopting a stray or a shelter dog isn't always easy, but it is always fulfilling. We have both taught each other a lot. Every time I came home after school, he learned I was never abandoning him and he didn't need to suffer from separation anxiety anymore. Every time I gave him a meal, he learned he didn't need to eat all the sticks and dirt he could find on our walks. Every time he curled up in my lap, I learned the true meaning of unconditional love. Every time he licked the tears off my face, I learned I didn't need to face my hardships alone.

Giving an animal a second chance is more of a gift to yourself than to them. They will come barreling into your life (or your lap) when you least expect it and leave their pawprint on your heart, forever changing the way you see the world. Who knew that a solar eclipse would bring such a ray of sunshine into my life...