5 Good Things I Learned From My Dog
Dog Affirmations: An Illustrated Journey Through Your Dog’s Thoughts by Andrea Caceras
Chae isn’t my soul dog. She is my reactive babygirl. Without knowing exactly what her past trauma entails, I can guess that it’s all too similar to mine. And that’s why I see a lot of me in her, in little ways that probably make no sense to anyone else, but us. Our first year together was the roughest, almost like an arranged marriage when two entities must cohabitate with only 22% knowledge of one another. Recently I figured out that Leroy, my soul dog that crossed the rainbow bridge, we were each other’s emotional and physical support. Every month he suffered seizures (except during the 2020 lockdown for some reason. It was a wonderful 6 months of him living at 100%), which enabled me to take him absolutely everywhere and he loved it. Leroy was a lovable extrovert who loved being at the office, riding on trains, traveling, he just loved people. I took care of him as much as he took care of me. The Leroy years were my entry into therapy, removing myself from abuse and into the healing journey. He saw me at my most hurt and broken, but also at my happiest.
The day I met Chae at the rescue shelter, it was mentioned that she had been there for months due to her growling and barking, which was offputting for many potential adopters. She’s not aggressive, she’s just not friendly to people is what I was told.The second I laid eyes on her and she barked ferociously at me, I understood that she feared people more than disliking them entirely. When I brought her home for a 5-day trial period (honestly, they should make it 2 weeks in general), it took about 4 hours for her to stop barking at me like I was the enemy. For 4 hours, I sat next to her crate and talked while she barked. With a soothing tone, I pretended we were having an actual conversation. Moreso, I think maybe because I sat there for so long it was my way of letting her know that I’m not going anywhere. I was going to be there for her, no matter what. Well, that and she finally had to pee, and from there we embarked on our first neighborhood walk together.
Since that day, Chae and I have learned to cohabitate. She watched me have a mental breakdown, part grieving for Leroy and other parts stressed out from not knowing how to parent a reactive dog. When I brushed the hair out of my face and came up for air, Chae stared, her eyes said, “I get it. I’m a lot, but so are you lady.” I believe she came into my life to teach me necessary things.
