A story based on true events…

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I like things to be cushy, I admit it. I want to eat well and then take a nap on a mountain of pillows.

Maybe it seems ridiculous or indulgent, but I spent enough time having to sleep on the streets. Now I’d like good neck support, thank you very much.

The people I’m close to now know practically nothing about my life before, and, even if there weren’t a language barrier, I think I’d prefer it that way.

I don’t like to dwell on my past. In some ways, though, it’s always with me, like a ghost making me startle when a neighbor’s door closes. Or shudder when the sprinklers turn on and I remember being cold and wet.

Apparently, having the bad luck to end up homeless is a crime, because I was turned in and locked up. Never formally charged, never in front of a jury, with no idea how long I’d be behind bars.

I did my best to keep to myself, relishing any time I could get outdoors in the sunlight.

After about 2 weeks, this couple came to bail me out. I wasn’t sure why they were doing it. I also wasn’t about to argue.

They took me in. Their place was cozy, with good food and lots of pillows.

At first, I was so afraid of doing something wrong and getting kicked back out on the streets that I didn’t want to let either of them out of my sight.

I’ve relaxed a bit since then but still try to keep an eye on them.

They don’t make it easy.

They’re both the sweet, naive, smile-at-strangers types, and I am constantly trying to warn them to be more cautious.

One time, a woman I had never seen before in my life just showed up with a suitcase. They acted like she was an old friend, and she stayed with us for days. Finally, what I had been trying to tell them must have registered, because the newcomer packed her suitcase back up and left.

I seriously don’t know where they’d be without me looking out for them, watching the house, making sure they get out and exercise, keeping the kitchen floor clean, and reminding them to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

All in all, we’re good for each other. We’ve become family.

It’s been a year, and I’m less haunted now. I no longer jump every time the blinds go up or someone sneezes.

I’ve got plenty of cushy spots throughout the house to nap. While I was as thin as a desert coyote when I met them, I’m back up to a healthier weight just from eating regular meals and not being on the run.

After you’ve lost everything once, you become unapologetic about reveling in what you enjoy. And you learn to fiercely protect those you love.

So I look out for these two crazy humans like it’s my job.

Really, someone has to – even if that someone happens to weigh 14 pounds and have a record with the county, oversized ears and tiny paws.

 

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The story behind the story…

This past Sunday marks one year since we adopted Quijote, whose perspective I channeled to write this. He had been at the county shelter almost two weeks, after being brought in by a kind soul who we may never meet but are very grateful to.

Before that, there are a lot of mysteries. He must have lived with people before, because he was already house trained and already neutered. We have no idea why he ended up as a stray or how long he was out there running around on the “mean” streets of East Mesa.

Our first glimpses of Quijote through the fence of his kennel were of him hanging out in the back, sunny part  like he just didn’t want to deal with all the noise and drama inside.

He was really skinny. Since then, he’s gained about 3 pounds, which doesn’t sound like much – but that’s over 25% of his original body weight!

We also joke about whether he thinks he’s taking us to the park to make sure we get our exercise instead of the other way around. He wouldn’t be totally wrong. I’m actually in better shape than when we first adopted Quijote, both physically and mentally. That little wagging tail is the best motivator to get out of the house and move around a bit.

And, yeah, he really does like curling up on pillows and blankets. He’ll arrange them so he has the optimal spot to rest his chin on – you know, neck support.

Finally, as happy as Phillip and I were to have a good friend stay with us for a few days while she was in town, Quijote was not on board!

 

He barked at her almost the entire time. It’s one of the most ridiculous examples of him trying to protect us when we least need protecting. Oh well. His little heart is in the right place.