Something About Beau

There once was a time when I tried very desperately to drown out my emotional pain in any way I could find. At 15 years old, I participated a wide array of risky behaviors that included cigarettes, drugs, alcohol and boys to desperately erase the trauma of the sexual assaults I had experienced in the prior year. Of course, none of this helped and my entire being cried out in pain – both figuratively and literally. One night though, I desperately researched ways to alleviate my pain and stumbled across the one thing actually turned my life around for the better.

One of the various suggestions on google was an emotional support animal and I thought that was a great idea. Not only would have something to love and care for, I could also have A sense of security at night with an animal laying by my side. Considering that our family already had 2 dogs, I never thought my parents would agree. I carefully rehearsed in my head how I could present the idea of an emotional support dog so the idea would even be considered. I researched emotional support dogs until google stopping providing new information and carefully memorized the important parts that were relevant to my situation. Raising a puppy would give me something to do in my free time (instead of things I shouldn’t be doing), it would provide me with companionship, it would teach me responsibility, and it would provide me a sense of security at night. I figured my dad would be behind me on the idea, but I wasn’t not so sure about my mom so I decided to bring the idea up with her first.

When I finally scraped up enough courage to finally tell my mom that I wanted to get a puppy to my emotional support animal, I was surprised with her reaction. She listen to everything I had to say and then said she thought it was a great idea. She said she would prefer that it was a smaller breed and I had to fork up the money for the puppy and any supplies I needed. I was so SO excited to start saving money and searching for my perfect emotional support animal. I quickly found out that small breed dogs were not only difficult to find in a small town in Alaska, they also were not in my price range. Nevertheless, I persisted in my search.

I spent months scouring Petfinder and Craigslist desperately trying to find a puppy that was what I wanted. I had come across a post on Craigslist a few times over several days that had no picture and just the short description of “small breed male puppy, 7 weeks old, contact for more details”. I had passed over it because 1) there was no picture and 2) it was a male and 3) it didn’t even say what breed it was. I vented to my dad about how poorly my search was going and that I only came across that one vague post for a small breed puppy. He offered to call and see if we could get a picture – what could it hurt?

The lady who posted the ad said that the puppy was a male American Eskimo/Bichon Frise mix (DNA test later revealed he was actually an American Eskimo/Schipperke mix) and that his mom was only 10lbs and would not get bigger than 15lbs (he’s whopping 25lbs now). She also agreed to email me a picture so I could see what he looked like. When I got the picture, it was love at first sight. I told my dad I HAD to have this puppy and to ask how much was the rehoming fee and when/where we could get him. The woman replied that she lived 170 miles away, but was willing to meet us halfway if we had $80 and could get him that day. We quickly agreed, got in the car, and headed towards our meet-up spot.

The whole car ride I was practically vibrating with excitement. I couldn’t stop talking to my mom about possible names for my new puppy. I debated between Teddy, Bear, and a few others. My mom suggest “Beau” because it meant “boyfriend” and it would be funny to say he was my new beau. I thought it was cute but wasn’t overly thrilled with it. We both agreed that it might be better to wait until I saw him in person to name him.

I’ll never forget when I first saw him in person. The woman stepped out her car and in her hands was a tiny black ball of fluff. My face lit up and I couldn’t hand her the money quickly enough. I grabbed him from her and thanked her over and over again. The whole car ride home with my new baby, he slept on my lap and I stroked his soft fur. At some point during the car ride I told my mom, “maybe Beau is a good name”.

That whole summer I spent with Beau was wonderful. I took full responsibility for him and refused to have anyone else help me with caring for him. I saved up my hard earned money just to buy him toys, clothes, and other accessories. I trained him to go potty outside, walk nicely on a leash, come when called, and various tricks such as sit, lay down, shake, roll over, sit pretty, and stand up. He was a stubborn-headed little dog, but every moment I spent with him was well worth it.

Caring for and training a dog gave me something to focus on that was healthy for me. He taught me patience. He taught me I didn’t need to go searching for love in boys because little Beau gave me all the love I could ever need. He guarded and comforted me throughout the night – he wouldn’t even let my family members into my room without a warning bark or growl. I also got a lot more exercise than I was getting before because I took him on walks frequently. But most of all, Beau made me feel like I actually had a purpose in life and something to live for in a time in my life where I hopelessly wanted to die. I love that dog more than I could ever describe and there’s no way I could ever thank him for all that he’s done for me. Dogs are truly a (wo)man’s best friend. ❤️