Let me introduce you to my fur baby. His name is Tuxedo and he’s almost 2 years old.
He is a pit/mix puppy, not sure what he is mixed with but he is gorgeous, brilliant, sweet and happy! I talk about him a lot. Probably just as much as most people talk about their children. I have the same number of photos and videos of him on my phone as you have of your 3 year old. I make no apologies for it either. He’s my boy and here is
his our story…
I have always been a pet lover. I can’t remember a time my family didn’t have a pet or two or three. PC and I decided after we had to put our last fur baby down, that we would first wait until we were ready for another pet after having to put one down (still heartbreaking!) and second, wait until we moved out of our apartment and into a house before getting another pet. Well, my cancer showed up not long after we moved in. Actually, we move into this house in the summertime and by October of the same year, I was having my WLE for Melanoma. So we waited some more.
The following January, I visited the local animal shelter. Ya know, just to look around, find out more about the process and pricing. (<-wink wink) I knew I wanted a puppy because I couldn’t physically manage a dog-sized fur baby. So they took me straight to the puppy house. That’s where I saw him. This happy, playful, brindle pup. There were two of them in the kennel, which was labeled “LAB MIX” by the way, because a sign that says “PIT MIX” would lead to fewer possible adoptions, unfortunately! The blonde, female pup was already taken but the brindle male was still available. His name was Fry.
The kind shelter employee asked if I wanted to spend a few minutes with him. I said no. Well, I said no in my head but apparently, I said yes with my mouth because he took me to this empty room, handed me the pup and said: “I’ll be back to check on you two in a few minutes”.
Fry was no longer happy. He was scared, shaky and crying the whole time. He wanted nothing to do with me or anyone that passed through that room. He wasn’t interested in cuddles, he didn’t want to be touched. And he especially did NOT want to be carried! He calmed down a little if I sat down while holding him but the second I stood up with him in my arms, he freaked out! He just wanted to go back to his kennel. He felt safe in that kennel. A pet, specifically a 2-month-old puppy, that is too scared to accept love/attention??? Broke.My.Heart.
My mind was made up already but I did spend time with several other puppies because I am the worst when it comes to impulsive decisions. I wanted to make sure Fry was still “the one” after meeting several others. Turns out, he was. I couldn’t get his little face out of my head no matter how many puppies this poor guy brought to me. So I said, “I’m so sorry to do this to you but can I see the first one again, please?”. He knew I had made my mind up already and assured me he would rather bring me 20 different pups than watch me take home the wrong ONE pup. I was glad to hear that! They placed Fry back in his kennel so I could go to the office and make it official. Shout out to the ADL employee (whose name I can not remember) that gave me a lift in the golf cart so I didn’t have to wobble all the way back down to the office!!
So I filled out the paperwork, which looked more like child’s adoption forms and had my interview. Yes there was an interview process! I passed all of that but I wasn’t prepared to take a pup home. No towel, no box, nothing! I should have known I couldn’t go to that place without taking one home. Didn’t matter, a few hours later I walked through my front door with Fry in one hand and a bag of dog food in the other. Poor PC had no idea where I went that day. I only wish I had a picture of his face when I walked through the door. Here we are (pictured below) the day I brought him home. I know the picture quality isn’t great but look at his worried little face!!
That first night was rough. He had a hard time sleeping or even getting comfy. It only took him that one night though. He realized he was still safe and that I wasn’t going anywhere. This boy has severe abandonment issues to this day! Not only was it rough on him but seeing as how I was still healing from a major surgery on my knee, taking him out to potty was NO picnic for me! Remember, he is only 2 months old at this point. I couldn’t just pick him up and casually walk to the back door unless I wanted to get peed on! We had to RUN outside! I had to keep my eyes on him at all times so I could recognize when he had to go and happily take him outside before he went! AND do all of this with a smile on my face and happy-toned words coming out of my mouth so this sudden scooping and running routine didn’t scare him. AND I had to remember to give him a small treat as soon as he did go in the yard in order to encourage this behavior. I moved a lot. A lot more than I was moving before I brought him home. In fact, I never had to do physical therapy as was originally planned thanks to the potty training process! My surgeon was thoroughly impressed with my movement and joked about prescribing puppies to his next patients. We even considered naming our new puppy “PT”! We didn’t though. We named him Tuxedo because he used to have a white patch on his neck that very closely resembled a bow tie. It was precious! However, the more he grew the more his bow tie started to resemble…well, nothing. It doesn’t look like anything anymore but a white splotch on his neck…Ah well.
Isn’t he just yummy?? Well, he doesn’t quite look like that anymore. He only looked like that for a few weeks, I swear! He shot up quick but he is still my little fur baby. I’m not sure what I would have done without him. I am not a fan of the expression “Everything happens for a reason” but I do think there is a reason I felt so strongly about visiting the shelter that day. I genuinely believe I was supposed to take this boy home with me. No one except maybe PC will ever understand how Tux has saved me. Physically, mentally, emotionally he is there. He has alerted me to nearby scorpions (which I am absolutely terrified of!) and just a few weeks ago he let me know there was a coral snake in the backyard! But more than that, He kisses my scar everytime I bump it on something, he snuggles with me when I am feeling down and he makes me smile when I don’t want to. I could go on and on but you get the point. Bottom line: I needed him more than he needed me. And I didn’t even know it.
Thank you for taking the time to meet my boy Tux. I will likely write about him very frequently. Please feel free to share your fur baby stories and pictures with me in my comments section! I know I’m not the only one out there! Y’all have a great week!