When I was growing up, all I wanted was a dog. I remember whenever I had a babysitter for the day, my sister and I would beg her to take us to Shake a Paw and play with puppies. My dad would tell me stories about his dog, Dusty, growing up, warning us that a dog was too big a responsibility for us to handle. Eventually, my dreams of my very own furry best friend came to an end. That is, until my younger sister started begging, and I mean begging my parents for a dog. Of course, since she’s the youngest, they caved. Finally, at the age of 13, I got my dog.
I spent the summer before freshman year hanging out with my dog all the time. While my friends were enjoying our last summer before jobs, I spent my time playing fetch, going on walks, and cuddled up on the couch with my new friend. I mean, can you blame me? She was so cute!
Not long after I got my dog, I entered high school, and I honestly have to say that my freshman year of high school was one of the worst years of my life. I was extremely awkward, struggled making friends, and struggled to adapt to the newfound difficulty of my schoolwork. But hey, I had my dog, and that’s honestly all that mattered. She was my rock, no matter what I did or said, she loved me no matter what. That feeling of unconditional love from a dog is like nothing else. Especially when Covid-19 hit, although the world was stressful and scary, I had my dog. That’s all that mattered to me
Fast forward three years after we got Hazel, my family was going through another tough time. We were still struggling to navigate the loss of my grandfather, who we were extremely close with. Along with this, I was trying to figure out where I was going to go to college, which was extremely stressful for me. One day, my mom was scrolling through Facebook and stumbled upon a rescue group that was looking for someone to take a dog all the way from Tennessee. My mom impulsively asked if they were still looking, and two days later, we had Oakley.
Originally, we were only going to foster him, even having a lot of our family friends come meet him to see if he would be a good fit for their family. But as the weeks went on, we knew we couldn’t let him go to another family. He was exactly what his previous owners said in the letter: a good boy who loves to be loved and loves to play with his ball. Although we were skeptical of housing a dog from a home we didn’t know before, he quickly proved all stereotypes against foster dogs wrong.
Hazel and Oakley aren’t just pets—they’re quiet witnesses to every chapter of my life, from awkward teenage years to heartbreak, loss, and growth. Through the good days and the ones I’d rather forget, they’ve offered the kind of love that doesn’t ask questions. I didn’t know it when I was begging for a dog as a little kid, but I wasn’t just asking for a pet—I was asking for comfort, companionship, and the kind of loyalty that only a dog can give. And somehow, I got it times two.