Almost two years later, I still have moments where I think, “I can't believe I got dogs.” To be really honest, sometimes the thought is more, “Why did I get dogs?” As sticky-sweet as this may sound, it’s true: my dogs kind of saved me, in a way I couldn’t have expected.
Before the Paws
I grew up with dogs, but they were always outside dogs—free-range dogs. My grandpa had his dogs tied up in the front yard under this huge tree with a homemade dog house. First Lady and then Buck. Buck was ours originally but when my mom got remarried and we moved into the new house they decided it would be best if Buck stayed at my grandmother.
The first attempt at an inside puppy when I was in middle school was a disaster; my mom had no patience for potty training, and within a month, he was outside. Soon after, she accidentally ran him over. She still feels guilty about it to this day, though I sometimes tease her. That experience, along with an attempt in my early 20s, solidified my skepticism.
I tried the "apartment dog” thing in my early twenties, but it lasted maybe three weeks. I met the dog and their owner in a parking lot after finding them on Craigslist posting; I went to see if it was a fit, but it quickly turned into me holding the dog while the woman asked for $50, making the exchange feel transactional and abrupt and mandatory. It wasn't an interview; it was a handover. I paid, but the dog and I were incompatible—I was constantly sneezing—and I found her a new home weeks later.
The Moment I Knew
When I bought my house, and someone asked if I would get a dog, I was adamant: “Nah, I like to travel and stuff.” So when my sister’s dog, Cinnabel, had puppies, my position was, “They are cute.”. My sister sent me pictures and kept asking if I wanted one. I would jokingly reply, "I"ll pray about it," which was my way of saying, "I don't see that happening."
As I prepared to go back to Waco Thanksgiving break 2024. I had flirted with the idea of taking the boy puppy, but my nephew claimed him. When I arrived, I slowly bonded with Coco. There was just something that clicked. I knew I wanted her and was constantly trying to talk myself into and out to take her home with me.
But there was a problem, Coco had a twin. Not just a litter mate but an identical replica of her except for one difference. Coco has a round spot round her right eye, that always leads to comparisons to Wishbone. Callie has a round spot on her left eye. Literally mirror images of each other.
I figured, "If I'm going to do this, let’s do this." Two dogs could entertain each other, and I wouldn’t be taking Coco from her twin sister. I told people I was fostering them as a trial run, but the truth was, after only a few days, I knew I couldn't give them away. The connection was instantaneous and powerful—they had this energy, this sweetness, and woke up a corner of my heart that had long been ignored. I fell completely in love.
Some Heroes Wear Collars not Capes
Yes, they stress me.
Yes, they’ve damaged things.
Yes, they make messes.
I am sick of cleaning up dog shit outside and sometimes in their crates when they get sick. I sometimes yell at them when they are shadowing me, like the ankle-biters Blue Heelers tend to be. But there is something about having dogs that you maybe don't appreciate until a rough time. They had already seen me cry, but when my dad died unexpectedly, they comforted me. They sat in my lap when I was alone, three hours from any close family, feeling unbelievably isolated—not just because of the distance, but because I was his only child and my family wasn't experiencing this particular loss.
Their support was palpable; they tried to lick away my tears as I swatted them away from my face. Their mission was clear, they wanted me to feel loved in that moment and they gave it with no restriction. Having them try to love the sadness out of me would always get a little chaotic and I’d inevitably start laughing, giving me a second to breathe and not be consumed by the tears and pain.
Friends and family remark that all I do is talk about my dogs, and it’s true: they change you. Seeing them smile and locking eyes with them for just a moment, feeling the oxytocin release in my brain and knowing it's releasing in theirs, is just a nice, simple, free feeling. I still think I should be able to claim them on my taxes, though, because dogs are expensive.
Besides the companionship, I've learned how different two dogs can be, even from the same gene pool. Coco is silly, goofy, and stubborn; she is a bit of a lone wolf, though she does have sweet moments Coco was the runt of the litter and while she is still smaller than her sister, she makes up for it with her personality.
Callie, is a big pile of love and noticeably bigger than her sister. She loves other people and other dogs; she just wants to love and be loved. She is very food-driven and far more obedient than her sister. If I had to pick one that is my true shadow, it is Callie. As I move from room to room, she wants to see what I’m doing, and if I close a door, she sits outside of it.
Coco, on the other hand, is generally more subtle. She likes to settle down by my feet while I work in my office, or sit by my feet when I finally stop and sit in my recliner. Callie, however, is more prone to just jumping in my lap and sitting there, almost like she is guarding me from the world. Watching them interact, seeing their expressions, and watching them play is beautiful and makes me smile countless times each day.
The big lesson here is to wait. Don’t just get a dog to get a dog, and don’t give someone else a dog. Let the person connect to the dog. That’s likely why I was able to walk away from the apartment dog; I hadn't made that vital connection. But with Coco and Callie, I realized there was no way I could leave them. Having them has confirmed one thing: parents might love their children equally, but they definitely have one they like more most days. There are days where Coco is so stubborn and headstrong that I thank God for how obedient Callie is and sneak her extra treats. Then there are days where Callie is extra destructive for no reason, and Coco is extra cuddly, and for a brief moment, I wonder what life would be like if I’d only brought home Coco. But in both cases, I know at the end of the day, I’m so grateful for my girls.