I  still remember the exact moment that my dad asked me if I wanted a dog. I was sitting on my friend’s couch. I was trying to nurse a broken heart from an extremely bad break up. I had just moved into my first house. I was finally living on my own. It should have been a happier time for me, but I was more lonely then I had ever been in my life. As soon as I had opened that text from my father, a little bit of hope sprang up in me. I said yes before knowing how, what kind, or where this dog was coming from. I didn’t know any of the specifics, until I saw her for the first time. Her mom had died after giving birth. She was so small and fragile. I cried the first time  hat I held her in one palm. I knew she was really going to need me, but somehow I knew that I was going to need her more.

Taking care of her was the only thing that gave me life for the first couple of months. I bottle fed her puppy formula. She was just like a baby, needing to eat every 3-4 hours. She had a warm bed that I put on top of mine so that I could have my hand near her at night. We discovered that she was a girl a few days after getting her. My dad had mistaken her for a boy and so her name had been Noah for a while.

She quickly became the sweetest, funniest, and sassiest puppy I had ever seen. She grew to love the outdoors. She loved dipping her beard in mud, sand, and snow. She became enamored with little squeaky tennis balls, and expected you to fetch after you threw her the ball. She learned to yap when she wasn’t given enough attention. She started stealing socks and I still run out of pairs all of the time. She demands dog cookies and sits by the tin container, looking up at it, until you oblige. She loves the beach and the water, but will growl when you dry her off with a towel and run around the house like a madwoman after a bath. She attacks me with kisses and tries to eat my hair whenever I come home. Sometimes she hears me when I call for her,  but doesn’t listen right away. She eats a fair amount of table food and begs for spaghetti and bites of fruity Popsicle.

The truth is that I know that I spoiled her, but she gave me so much happiness. She put joy in places of my life where there hadn’t been joy. Jude is my son, but she was my first baby. She was my first taste of motherhood.

She is a dog, but she is beautiful, adventurous, and fiercely independent. As of today, she is 3 years old.  She is a dog…but because of her, I learned that a dog is never just a dog. She is my soulmate.

I love you, Jovie. Happy Birthday 🙂