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I Found Myself in My Dogs

Learning from Four Legs about How to Better Life on Two

By Addy KPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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My first real pet was my dog, Piper. She was a chocolate lab/pitbull mix; vibrant, loving, and gentle. My family adopted her from a shelter in 2005. At the time, she was roughly four years old, abused, starving, and just recovering from delivering a third litter of puppies. She looked so small and helpless, wedged in the crate. My family did not know it at the time, but we were going to change her life for the better, and she was going to change ours.

It cost sixty dollars to bring her into our home, and there she stayed for eleven wonderful—but all too short—years. Piper was shy at first. She needed an adjustment period and our parents wanted us to give her space, but naturally, as kids, we wanted to play with our new furry friend. She gradually began to trust us and greet us when we came through the door. Her tail felt like a whip because it wagged with so much force. She had done a complete 360 living in our house. Piper learned what it meant to be loved unconditionally, and my siblings and I learned what it was like to give our hearts away, wishing we'd never have to take them back.

She was the most amazing animal, and she was the most stable part of those near twelve years that she was alive. My parents had a rocky relationship, to say the least. Nothing has really changed. They finally separated when I was eleven, which was a blessing in disguise at the time, but Piper was always there. She was the one I reached for if I needed a hug, the one I talked to with confidence, held close to me when I cried, and she was the one who could put a smile on my face no matter how trapped or scared I felt.

I used her as a crutch through that tumultuous period of my life, and we shared a mutually beneficial relationship. We were best friends, but she also took on the role of my protector, yet she was my baby. When I held her, when I saw her tail wag and those beautiful brown eyes light up, I knew I had found something special that I would have for life. I wanted to keep her safe from everything and I wanted her to know how much she was loved and appreciated. She had her quirks, just like the rest of us, but to me she was perfection.

She frightened people because of her pit bull genetics, and because of that, I grew up to learn the importance of advocacy and standing up for what I believe in. I fought for her rights, for animal rights, pit bull rights, and eventually, human and women's rights came along with that. She gave me the confidence I needed to take what felt like a hidden truth and make it public. I quickly became a member of pit bull rescue groups and took any chance I could to express how caring and gentle my baby girl was.

I spent hours on the computer researching for a handful of papers I wrote, based on the genetic science behind animal genomes and the predisposition for dominant or recessive characteristics. The frequency and propensity of my papers and my research bothered people, and I think it was because I was debunking a myth that many people had grown to believe as fact. I realized that people don't like it when someone else tells them they're wrong.

Piper never bit anyone in the entirety I had with her. She had a parental instinct that expressed further than my own parents' did, at times. She was dependable, reliable, and I knew that her love for me was infinite, just as mine was, and still is, for her. I learned how to put others first by taking care of her. Responsibility is a huge step for kids growing up, and having a pet is sometimes used as a teaching tool for that reason. Adopting a dog that was fully grown and had already developed a personality and set behavioural traits was risky, but I firmly believe that rescuing is always the right thing to do.

On August 29th, 2016, I had to say goodbye to the one thing that held me up for as long as I can remember. The first pet is always the hardest, and they always hold a place in your heart that will remain untouched by anyone else. That day was the hardest day of my life. When I held my baby girl as she slipped away from me, I felt a part of me go with her, and I would not be underestimating if I said that a piece of me died that day, too.

Four days after the 29th, I moved out of my house for the first time and into residential housing, four hours away to begin the next four years of my life at university. 2016-2017 was the most difficult year of my life, and I had to learn how to cope, how to understand, and how to love without feeling broken. I still cry and it still hurts to think about her, but I hope she knows that I will always love her, and that she helped shape me into the person I am today.

In memory of Piper, I used her paw print that we copied in paint on the day we put her down, turned that into a tattoo with a quote: "When I needed a hand, I found your paw." I carry her with me everywhere I go on my back, over my right shoulder blade. The crazy thing is how our lives will change, and us along with them, just by a moment. That moment is often overlooked and it isn't recognized until that moment becomes a memory, and that moment for me, is the day I first laid eyes on the soul that would change my life forever.

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