Pets

I adopted Rosemary in summer of 2017, before my sophomore year of college, when she was likely two years old. it was very important to me that my service dog be adopted from a shelter, though there weren't any big service dog organizations in the area that would train a dog for what I needed without me being a veteran, anyway. I worked with private trainers that helped find the right dog for me; not every dog is a good fit for this kind of work. when they found her, her name was Wendy, and she had just given birth to a litter of puppies. after seeing how gentle and sweet she was with them, it was clear to my trainers that she was the perfect fit.

Rosemary wasn't always the most patient when on the job, wanting to be the first into the building when I open a door or lying down if we were standing in the same spot for too long. she was good at tucking, but if there was enough space for her to sprawl out, she'd take the opportunity. I was really self-conscious about that after seeing how viscious online service dog communities are about sniffing out "fakes." at the end of the day, though, service dogs aren't robots, and her little quirks never made her bad at her job. without her, I would've had to walk out on a lot more classes than I did. she kept me calm when nothing else would, and I'm very thankful for that. beyond her tasks, I often just felt unsafe out in the world, and having someone to come with me made everything a little less scary.

Rosemary is, by far, the most tolerant dog I have ever met. you can grab her snout and shake her face around, mess with her paws, or stretch the extra skin she has on the sides of her face, and the most she will do if she doesn't like something is paw at you or use her mouth to push you away. she's gotten noisier with age, but I think the number of times she's barked is still under thirty, and when she does, it's never more than one or two at a time. when she was younger, she would play by ripping all the stuffing out of her plushies. she just let go of something if I tried to play tug-of-war with her, so I used my arm or my foot to play games like that, because she never bit hard enough to hurt me. she still loves running around all over the place on an open field, chasing any ball I throw but never actually picking it up to bring it back to me.

I continued to take Rosemary to classes with me throughout college, but I gradually stopped taking her with me to other places, like the grocery store or therapy. at first, it wasn't because I didn't need her, but because I couldn't cope with the attention I got from having her with me. when I graduated college, I was feeling a little more stable to go out on my own, since I wasn't being put in potentially triggering situations much anymore. when I met my girlfriend, she became the person to go with me to the stressful stuff, and Rosemary became just a regular dog. she still does her tasks at home when needed, but that doesn't happen often. once she recognized that she didn't have to be professional anymore, I got to see more of her personality.

Rosemary is smart enough to know when she can get away with breaking a rule, though she only pretends not to hear commands when it comes from my girlfriend, since she respects her a little less than me. she makes a lot of dad noises and gets whiny when she wants to be pet or fed, which is cute, funny, and annoying at the same time when I'm trying to watch TV with dinner. now that she's ten years old, she spends most of her day curled up in a bed or sprawled out in a sunny spot. I always appreciate when she forces my door open with her nose so she can come lie in here while I work, even though she doesn't close the door behind her. when my girlfriend is home and on her computer, her office is where she spends the rest of the evening.

above all else, the trait I love the most about my dog is how affectionate she is. she leans on me when I ask for a hug and nuzzles her head into my hand while I pet her. I'm not the best at reading social cues, but with Rosemary, it's never hard to tell that she loves me.

my biological family adopted Princess when I was around the end of my high school junior year and she was already about eleven or twelve years old. at the time, I was doing volunteer dog walking at an animal shelter in New Hampshire, in part because I wanted a dog but could not have one because of my sister's phobia of them. the reason Princess became the exception was because, after walking her for the first time, I realized that she also experienced anxiety around dogs and didn't do any of the unpredictable behaviors that were scary to my sister. I was originally told that Princess was being fostered but would be available for adoption later when my bio family said they were ready to adopt, but when we asked again later, we found that the foster owner had decided to adopt her instead. my bio mom explained our situation to the other owner, who willingly gave us Princess. the other owner became a family friend, and after I cut off my bio mom and changed my dynamic with my bio family, that owner stayed my friend.

Princess joined my bio family already missing all but one of her teeth, and that last one was removed a couple years after she was adopted. most of her anxiety came from what she had been rescued from, though I won't get into the details on what that is, since it's needlessly sad when this is already an "in memoriam" thing. however, it resulted in her being unable to be put in a crate when it was time to leave the house without her. eventually, we learned to just slip out of the house without her noticing. when she was taken on outings with us, she would usually be put in a stroller or a carry-on bag, since she got tired of walking pretty quick. Princess scratched at people's hands if they stopped petting her and cried when she wasn't getting enough attention. while she probably barked less than five times in the time that she was part of my life, she certainly lived up to her namesake—she was spoiled and would not tolerate anything less.

when I was still in high school, Princess almost always slept in the same bed as me and followed me around wherever I went if I was the only one home. she became cold very easily, so she wore a lot of vests to keep her warm, and when I took a sewing class, I chose sew a dog vest with a tutu during the project that involved following a sewing pattern of our choice. one (formerly) child alter in particular was very attached to her, and there are a few videos I have saved where she simply filmed herself petting Princess as she looked up at her with those massive eyes and made little snorting noises. I still often think about her massive eyes as she looked up at us, whining for attention, and the way she would snap her mouth like a ravenous seagull whenever we offered her frozen peas.

whenever my bio family was on vacation, the friend that originally adopted Princess would pet-sit her for us. throughout the trip, we'd recieve text messages with photographs she took of Princess all dressed up. some of my favorite pictures of her are the ones taken while we were on vacation. when me and my bio family came back home, Princess would do zoomies on the first floor before rubbing her side all over one of the couches. I always found the way she'd rub her sides and back on things incredibly cute, and since she didn't stink or shed fur, there was no problem with her rolling around in our fresh laundry.

I was in college with Princess passed away at the age of about fifteen and unfortunately did not have the ability to say goodbye in person. she was less attached to me when I came back on breaks, and I think that more could've been done in her last year to make her comfortable if I hadn't left, which is something that I am still trying to process. at the very least, I know that her adoption was a second chance at life, and though we only had about four years with her, it was a life well lived.