I was incredibly depressed when I got back from my year in Afghanistan. I don't talk about it much, but I had very little light in my life. I had even entertained the thought of leaving the theater before the movie was over - if you catch my drift. Still, I was volunteering my time playing guitar for the patients and congregation at Tripler Army Medical Center every week for the church service.
One day when we were having a farewell lunch for our bassist, we went to a downtown Spaghetti Factory that just happened to be near a pet store. I went in while we were waiting for our table and held a little Shih Tzu. She was adorable. During the lunch, it suddenly occurred to me that hey! Yeah! Why not? I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna get that dog!
After lunch - after I had made my decision to get the puppy - we went back to the store.
Someone had bought her.
I was a little down since I had basically set my mind on it, but no real bond had been formed so I started to walk out the door.
"You sure you don't wanna hold one of the Yorkies?"
"Haha, nah, thanks." They were super expensive and Yorkies were little yappy Paris Hilton dogs. Eff that.
"You SURE??!???"
I had almost made it to the exit when I decided 'what the hell?' What could it hurt?
"Yeah, okay. Let me hold the little female one."
As soon as the clerk put her in my arms, it was over. Her stupid little scruffy fur, her dumb little cute face, her little stupid tail, her little pink belly... I was in love. This was my puppy. I wiped out my entire life savings on her (I was bad at managing finances - she wasn't really that expensive) and brought her home.
My friend Suzanne, the praise team leader, suggested "Lucy" as her name. I liked it. I like the Beatles song and my favorite band is Hanson and Zac sings "Lucy" - so it was a go. Still; to this day, while her "Christian" name is "Lucy," I mainly call her "Bunny" or various forms: Bun, Bun-Bun, Bean, Beany-Bean, Hun-Bun, Bee, Honey Bee, Beedy-bee, etc.
I don't know if a part of me felt like she gave me purpose or what, but I would look in her eyes, or look at her sleeping, or dreaming and feel better about the world. I figured, "Okay, Universe, I guess I'll be hanging around for another 14 years or so..."
There were, of course, some rough days raising her and potty training her. Man, sometimes I'm surprised we both made it out alive. But we did and we're BFFs now. She's the best dog too - doesn't destroy anything, only barks every now and again when she's suspicious (or if there's a big spider she's trying to warn me about).
I never thought I'd be a dog person. And in a way I'm not, though I do love dogs (and cats). I'm HER dog person. She brought sunshine and love into my life when I forgot how to even be receptive to love. It's now years later and we still snuggle every day I get home from work. We go to the doggie park almost daily for play time and so she can see all her friends and do her little poopies. I love her so much.
She's the Yorkie that saved my life.
I would be a monster if I didn’t share her gift with the world.