For the Love of Dogs

I said I would post my first writing piece that I worked on during my time at the San Antonio Writing Project. It is about, of course, no other than Iivana!

It’s a funny thing how a person forms an identity as a child, but as they grow and experience life that person seems to change. I often reflect back on my life thinking about the many paths I’ve traveled down and sometimes wonder how I arrived where I am. How did I end up in Texas of all places? Can a mid-western girl with a nasally accent turn into a Southern belle who says y’all? And when did I turn into a crazy dog lady?

Yes, I am a full-blown obsessive dog lover. All I need is a bumper sticker that reads: “Honk if you smooch your pooch.” My dog, Iivana is my child. When I am tired after a long day at work, I must find the time to play with her.  If I don’t she will be into everything! She’ll steal pillows off the couch while I chase her screaming, “drop it.” Iivana will wave her face over the sensor on the trashcan to open it and gobble down some goodies. She is even an experienced counter surfer who intercepts anything from peanut butter jars to paper towels. Just like a toddler, you have to monitor her every move.

I never had a dog growing up. We traveled to Wisconsin several times a year to visit my mom’s side of the family. So my parents always used the excuses, “There’s not enough time, we’re too busy, and we’re never home.”  We settled for a rabbit instead. I now understand my parents’ logic. Dogs are a full time commitment and aren’t cheap either. Now, whenever I go visit my family in Michigan, boarding her needs to be budgeted into the vacation costs.

Never having a dog, I seemed to be distant from dogs. You could probably even say I was scared of them.  When visiting friends’ houses with dogs, I would curl up on the couch and act standoffish towards the pet. A screaming of “gross” was often accompanied when one would lick me.  My sister’s dog, Ceci must have sensed my uneasiness around dogs. She always seemed to take this as an invitation to sniff and get in my face.

I decided I would never have a dog. Their hair seemed to stick to everything and the smell is ever present when you enter a house where a dog lives. As an adult, I seemed to develop allergies towards dogs. Plus, I wanted the freedom to go where I wanted when I wanted.

But then there was my husband. My husband is the complete opposite of me, yet common interests unite us. However, this fondness of dogs was something we disagreed about since day one.  In my mind, I assumed I would get my way and win this “discussion.” Being in the military would not allow time for a dog.

My husband, Justin, is very clever. He knew he couldn’t get me to Petsmart and just pick out a dog.  My husband is observant and knows the way to my heart.  Justin recognizes that I am a giver and love to help.  He presented the idea of fostering a military working dog for three months. You take a Department of Defense dog and socialize them. You play fetch with them and tug-a-war, but no other real training. I agreed and figured this would be a solution to the dog discussion.  He would get his fill of having a dog. We wouldn’t have the puppy forever. I would have three months of commitment and then it would be over.

Along the way I repeatedly tried to ignore the responsibility of her. In fact, we planned a weekend away at a Dude Ranch.  Before bed one night, I shot up and announced, “We can’t go to Bandera, we have a dog.” My husband did most of the caring for her. He would take her out most mornings and to the required appointments. I tried to disconnect myself from this rascally creature.

But something occurred that I didn’t plan on. Along the way, I started to fall in love with her. I knew Iivana wasn’t mine to keep, but her personality weaved through my heart.  The way she would squeeze under my husband’s legs while he rested on the couch. Her intelligent mind of how she caught on to new games and commands. She would lay her head against the ground and give that watery big-eyed look that meant please don’t leave me. 

Time swept through like a racecar and before I knew it; our last night with her had arrived. We had a photo shoot with hugging, showing what she had learned, and simple poses to remember the way she was. The next day before my husband was to return her, I quickly uttered my final goodbyes in an attempt to keep myself composed. Unfortunately, I felt melancholy all day at work. Something at school set me off.  I was crying about the way a student acted, but really I was whimpering about Iivana. I used to hate dogs, how could I feel this way? I was always emotionless when others talked about their prized pet; I just didn’t get it. But now, it was facing me in the eyes and I finally understood what everyone else saw in the pedigree.

Justin and I often wondered how she was fairing in the program. We got word that she was on the cusp of making it! At this point, I felt proud. What an honor it would be if she was to become a working military dog and I had something to do with her upbringing. But in the back of my heart, this also meant there was chance we could get her back. 

And get her back we did!  Justin received a call that Iivana finished the first training, but was not going to be selected. She was too sweet. The trainers labeled her as a loving housedog.  Later we came to find out when they approached her with the bite suit, she tucked her tail and ran. We also learned that she was the second to last one from her litter to stay in the training. Her sister, Iimagine was the only one who made it further than her; Iimagine was fostered by a dog trainer and eventually failed out too. Even though my brave dog didn’t get accepted for further training, I was pleased with what she had accomplished. She made it far in her program! Besides, I wouldn’t want a dog that would attack and bite anyways.

In anticipation of her return, we prepared for her like a baby. We bought her toys, food, a leash, a collar, and a new crate. After researching the size of a full-grown Belgian Malinois, we decided to buy an extra-large sized crate. Shock riddled our faces when we went to pick her up and she was the same size! She always was the rare black one with dainty paws. Oh well, we figured she would have more space to sleep.

That is just the beginning of how I became a crazy dog lady. I didn’t have the opportunity to explain how she excelled in agility class at jumping through hoops and running through zigzags. Or when my heart nearly stopped because she was attacked by a Pit Bull. Actually, I appreciate Iivana now, more than ever since my husband is deployed in Afghanistan. She has become my companion, my shoulder to cry on, and the one who can put a smile on my face when I really need it!