Rescued

There are days and decisions that change your life completely. More often than not, you can’t even see it at the time. You’re too close to what is happening, and only with the slow passage of time can you look back and see all that has changed.

December 29th was a day that changed mine.

It was the day a little rescue pup came to live with me for the rest of his days. I’d found him on Petfinder weeks earlier after I’d sworn off dating apps and started looking at pets needing homes instead to fill the empty moments.

Admittedly, I started with the “bougie” pups in the beginning. The cute, adorable ones that everyone wanted. I put in several applications, but never heard a response as the puppies I inquired about were wanted by so many that they were quickly adopted.

Months passed, and one cold winter night, I typed in dachshunds into the search. At the time, I had a small rotation of pets that I would watch on a regular basis, and one was a red short-haired doxie named Hot Dog - affectionately called Hottie for short. I’d grown fond of this little burrower and was curious to see what this search brought.

A dog mismarked as a ‘young’ showed up. His paws were whitened with age, and his long, skinny legs were perched on a shopping cart. His owner had passed away, and at around 12 years give or take, he was looking for a new home. I would later find out that after being surrendered to the shelter with rotted teeth and a UTI, his health had continued to decline. The shelter was originally looking for a foster family to take him until arrangements could be made for him to go to Doggy Hospice. They didn’t think he had much life left in him and he wouldn’t be viable for adoption. But it turned out that being back in a home environment was a welcomed change from the shelter, and he slowly improved enough that they felt he could possibly be adopted.

And that’s when I stumbled upon him.

I put in an application and was called immediately the next day. A week-long trial stay with the pup had me almost sending him back. He had endless accidents, couldn’t sleep through the night, and had horrible separation anxiety. But, in the end, I couldn’t imagine not going through with the adoption.

Who else in their right mind is going to agree to keep this dog?

And so, after a flight home for Christmas, I returned to pick him up from his foster family and become his forever home.

As a first-time mama, I worried I had bit off more than I could chew. More mornings than I could count, we’d wake up and I’d hurry to get him out the door, throwing my boots and winter coat on as quickly as I could, only to watch him squat and pee into the carpet before we could get down my apartment stairs. At one point, I bought a tarp and covered it with pee pads as we worked to decrease the anxiety that had him constantly peeing as he acclimated to me and his new home.

But with time and patience, the most loving, snuggly, caring little dog slowly emerged. He eventually was able to hold his bladder longer until he no longer used his belly bands. He began sleeping through the night more and waking up less. We started a routine of leisurely walks through the city and the nearby park.

I named him Eugene, and I fell completely in love with him and with being his mama.

As the girl who’d recently achieved her dream of standing on all seven continents and was constantly on the go, my world changed drastically. I’d constantly been pushing myself to make my life bigger and engulf every experience, but Eugene taught me to slow down. I traded photos of me on mountaintops for pictures of him snuggled in blankets next to me. For the first time in a long time, my world revolved around something other than myself.

When I moved to a new city, I searched for a ground-floor apartment to eliminate stairs for Eugene. I gave up life downtown for fewer shared walls to avoid issues with his frantic barking the few times I did leave him alone. I went out less and stayed in more, enjoying snuggles on the couch and a more simplistic life. My life had a new purpose, and I relished it.

In a world where a partner and family seemed out of reach, I was able to grasp this one small being. To pour all the love I had stored up into this little living thing. I felt a love like I never had before – a love he returned to me in licks and nibbles and the steady companionship I’d been searching for.

And it brought me endless joy.

After several health scares this past Spring, Eugene bounced back healthier than ever, even putting on a little weight. I began to joke he was “Benjamin Button-ing” and aging backward. I had an idea for our Halloween costumes this fall and was planning his upcoming 14th birthday. I was thinking I maybe had years left with my little pup.

And then a new date changed my life.

The day I lost him.

Just the thought of no longer having him in my life each day broke my heart – the reality was soul-crushing. Eugene had become my own little family and the closest I’d come to being a mom - and I was grateful for even a taste.

In the days that followed, I sat with my grief until I felt every corner of the hurt from his absence. I reached out and allowed others to sit with me in my suffering, and I was overwhelmed by the love of each and every person who offered me comfort. Friends stopped by, flowers and cards arrived, family and loved ones called, and I realized I wasn’t alone in losing Eugene.

We’d all lost the joy he sparked.

I remind myself that it hurts so much because I loved him so completely. I know in time my grief will become gratitude for the time he was in my life.  

The quiet calm of my apartment these days is both foreign and familiar. Comforting and crushing. I find myself searching for a new normal, trying to find my way into a different routine. One without slow morning walks and someone to talk to throughout my workday. One void of nighttime snuggles and the pitter-patter of his footsteps letting me know he was never too far away.

Of all the chapters in my life, this one brought me such unexpected, deeply felt joy and yet cruelly was one of the shortest. I’m struggling to accept this chapter has come to a sudden close long before I was ready. I realize I don’t know what the next one looks like.

But I do know I won’t have to figure it out on my own. I know I’ll have the love and support of so many each step of the way. Because that’s what life is truly about. I can’t escape the hurt and pain of living … of losing …of simply being human. No one can. But I can pull those I love close to me and whisper to them, “I’m not okay.”

I can let the love wash over me. I wait for the gratitude to replace my grief. And I remember even without him, I’m not alone.

And for that, I am forever grateful.