I love a lot of things. I love movie theatre popcorn and yoga pants and Staedler Triplus Fineliner pens. I really, really love hockey and Kanye West and country music and boys (like, a lot). But what I love most in the world, more than any Canuck or carb, it is always the same: my dog.
Fajita is literally perfect. Not flawless, because he has some anxiety issues and an underbite, but perfect. He completes me. I spend way more time per day than I should thinking about Fajita, buying things for Fajita, and stalking Fajita around the house. I am obsessed with him.
For years I wanted a white Chihuahua. Not a little shaky one, but just a smaller dog with a Chihuahua-esque face, and ideally kind of chubby. I watched Petfinder and kept almost-adopting dogs – I’d get fixated on one, call to go meet him, and he’d have already been adopted. (This is the same saga my best friend is going through trying to get a pug, sadly.) I was resistent to the idea of purchasing a puppy because I don’t fully agree with it, and I always figured that it was just bad timing.
On a weekend trip to Edmonton, we made an impromptu visit to the humane society . My best friend joked that I’d probably leave with a dog. She was, as she usually is, completely right.
She actually spotted him first and just said, “oh my god, Em…”. I looked in the window and saw him and immediately ran to find the door. We all went into the room to find him. It was love at first site for me.
For him, not so much. He pretty much sat under a table the whole time. He was incredibly shy and, having recently lost his owner, not too keen on people. The other chihuahuas he shared a room with were energetic and adorable and people kept looking tempted by them – but I only had eyes for the googly-eyed one.
I was terrified. What if he never learned to love me? What if he hated me and we never bonded, or I resented him for taking up so much time and money and for being an inconvenience to spontaneous getaways?
None of that was ever a problem. I got him home and within a few days, we were best friends. I am enamoured with him. Every single day I sing him songs and take his photo and we snuggle and we play and I thank whoever that we found each other. I would do anything for that dog (including working a terrible waitressing job for a month to pay for his surgery). The only inconvenience about travelling is that sometimes I have to leave him and I hate that. He walks directly with me and if I stop, he will stop. He sticks by me and I stick by him and we’re awesome.
Dogs are amazing. Pets are amazing. I am so, so, so glad that I didn’t buy a purebred puppy for a gazillion dollars, but rather waited and found my perfect little buddy at a shelter. If anyone who happens upon this is looking for an animal, I strongly encourage you to keep an open mind and look in the shelter. Although I found exactly what I imagined, there are so many beautiful, adorable, lovable animals in every shelter that could use your love. Take one home?