Napoleon the Conqueror (of Hearts)

This was the text exchange between me and my boyfriend Addison four years ago when he discovered Napoleon. He had found the dog (quite literally, on the street) while visiting a small town called Beersheba in Tennessee where his family stayed every 4th of July, and I was visiting my own family in Richmond.

If you read the texts, you'll see him pretending that I have a say in whether we kept the dog or not. Even now, I can feel his excitement through each message. But I remember knowing as soon as I received them that the dog was coming home with us, whether I liked it or not.

And at first, I did not. We had talked about getting a dog at some point, but it was supposed to be a joint decision. We'd both pick out the dog and agree together that he was right for us. I didn't like being left out of the process. I didn't like that the dog was getting to bond with my boyfriend way before he would ever meet me.

And it turns out I was right to be a little worried. After I begrudgingly accepted the fact that Addison had fallen in love with this dog and we would now have to raise him, I flew to visit them both in Michigan almost a month later. For a dog, a month is a long time. Long enough to establish a strong bond with his new father and become unsettled when some new person (me) shows up to take all of his attention.

The first night that I met Napoleon (or Nap for short), he peed on all of my belongings in the middle of the night. Like a stealth animal agent, he quietly crept out of bed and literally urinated on everything I had brought with me. All of my clothes. My backpack. My books. You name it. "Wow, he's never done that before" Addison said. We were not off to a good start.

And it only continued the next morning. If I went to sit next to Addison on the couch, Nap had to scooch in between us. If I walked into the room to ask Addison a question, Nap had to follow to make sure he didn't miss anything. If Addison kissed me, guess who had to jump up with his wet dog tongue and get in on the action? The rivalry became very real. He was a true Napoleon, genuinely out to conquer.

But, just like real people, we found common ground to bond over: our fears.

I quickly learned that Nap has a long list of things he's scared of. Any form of water (lakes, rivers, rain, puddles, baths, you name it), bouquets of roses, balloons, playing fetch, balls in general...the list could go on. Some of these fears I simply can't explain. Some he has even started to overcome. But others are likely a result of the life he lived before meeting us.

He became ours when he was a little over a year old, but those first few months with him, we saw many signs that he might have been abused as a puppy. He was terrified of brooms and was constantly on edge. We had to be careful not to move our arms too quickly - if we were holding a pot or pan, he would cower in the corner. You could look over at him at any point during the day, and he would likely be shaking with anxiety. Quite literally vibrating, his entire body constantly trembling.

My heart breaks a little every time I see him start to shake. But it's also a reason I fell in love with him, because I understand that feeling of being so anxious and scared that all you can do is freeze where you are and tremble.

What started out as a rivalry slowly morphed into a codependency.

Whenever Nap begins to shake or tucks his tail between his legs in fear, I will lay down on the ground and curl my body into a nest for him to hide in. And on days when my anxiety is taking over and I find myself sitting in the back of a dark closet trying to breathe, Nap always finds me and curls up against me too. Addison always jokes that Nap experiences what's going on inside of me as if it's going on inside of him as well. On my worst days, when all I can do is sit on the couch and try very hard not to drown in the anxiety and unexplained fear that radiates off of me, Nap won't eat. He won't play, he won't walk. He just lays on my chest and lets me swaddle him in my blanket, a feeling of comfort that we both love. And once I'm feeling like my normal self again, he is too.

This pup has lived quite a life so far, but I'm glad we get to live the rest of it together. Even if we did originally hate each other.

You know what they say....hatred is just one small step away from love.

Not convinced you're in love with Nap yet? Here are 5 things you should know about him:

1. He likes to sit on people. Not close to them, or beside them. On top of them. He will back himself up like a beeping truck and plop his butt on top of your feet, legs, face, or whatever other body part he can reach. Then he will sit very rigidly as if he realized he did something awkward but now it's too late to fix it.

2. He howls more than he barks. He hardly ever barks, and he only sometimes howls. Nothing puts Nap in an angsty, melodramatic mood like howling. He howls in response to three different sounds: firetrucks, blenders, and Addison's saxophone playing (this last one is understandable).

3. We thought we had potty trained him. When we first brought him home, he never peed in the house (except that one time to destroy all of my belongings and dignity). Then one night we found a puddle of pee right next to the toilet, so obviously we figured it had been a real emergency and Nap noticed that the toilet was where peeing happens, so he did his best to follow suit. We were so proud! What a brilliant dog we had! Except then the next day he peed directly into the printer.

4. He can hug. After he learned how to sit and stay, I decided the next most important trick would be to hug. So now when you say "hug," Nap jumps up and wraps his front two arms around your body (or really your legs, he's not that tall) while balancing on his back feet. It's very cute and entirely necessary.

5. He death stares using his whole body. Here is picture evidence.