a girl's best friend
The tale of how Sparky came into my life.
Sparky watching the lake at Markham Park, Sunrise, Florida
You never forget the moment your eyes first meet those of your pet’s. The summer of 2012 was coming to an end when my mom drove my two siblings and I to the Humane Society of Broward County. Walking through the front doors, my heart felt like a gong, struck with enough force to leave it vibrating uncontrollably for minutes on end. Every aching moment of the past twelve years hopelessly begging my parents to adopt a dog led to this magical point: the day I would finally meet my new best friend.
To understand the profound significance of this moment to me, one would have to meet an even younger version of myself.
Summer 2005: Carrying a stray on a playground in Mexico
My parents made it clear to me early on that we would never be adopting a dog. There was no valid reason for it and to my surprise, the pools of tears I cried were not convincing enough to change their minds. Yet, for as long as I can remember, all I wanted in life was a canine companion.
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At every family party throughout my childhood, I was the little girl playing with any present dog, taking it on “walks” around the backyard and even pushing them around in toy strollers. In Mexico, I approached every stray like they were my own. When my closest childhood friends got dogs, I was the first to volunteer to
take them on walks and teach them tricks. My obsession with dogs was so profound that by the age of ten, I had a journal filled with my “research” on dog breeds including everything from images, behavior, intelligence, and overall personality.
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Eventually in 2012, my dad caved, slowly becoming convinced after my calculated sharings of well-rounded canine breed knowledge. But of course, there was a catch.
My dad wanted me, a sedentary middle schooler, to successfully complete 50 sit ups and 50 pushups. Why? Well...funny story… Apparently when my dad was in high school, he won a puppy after completing 100 pushups. Then, of course, he went on to name the puppy Pushup.
I can’t trust that the story is 100% accurate, but it’s what I was forced to accept if I wanted a dog.
My dad thought he was being clever, that I would never be capable of achieving this physical feat.
Yet there I was in the summer of 2012, training behind the closed doors of my bedroom every night. By August, my mission was complete. Soon, the dog I was promised would be mine!
It’s safe to say that my dad never underestimated my determination again.
So here we teleport back into the lobby of the Broward County Humane Society, eagerly approaching the doors leading to the kennels.
The first kennel was shared by two large brothers, yelping and shoving each other for a spot against the chain link fence. I mentally checked them off the list immediately.
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Then came the second kennel. Leaning his entire body against the fence was an older puppy with sad eyes and ears flat against the top of his skull. His fur was thick and white with light brown patches and freckles all up and down his arms. The second we made eye contact, I knew he was the one.
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I remember petting my future best friend through the holes in the fence and telling my mom that we could stop our search; I found our newest family member.
2017: Sparkles smiling on the cool grass
But she thought I was crazy for wanting to settle on the third dog we saw.
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What is it with my parents doubting me?!?!
Just as I had suspected, no other dog met the specific requirements set by my parents. At the time, our baby was named Ramsees and he was 4 and a half months old. We requested to meet him in one of the play rooms and his personality did a complete 180. Instead of silently staring off into the distance like a widowed creature, this boy was jumping all over the place, whining, and slapping us all with his happy tail.
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The day we brought him home was the most joyous day of my pre-teen life. Now named Sparky, our newest family member completed about eight laps around the house before slowing down in the kitchen and throwing up everywhere. Such a lovely welcome home!
During the following years, my dreams of being a dog mom came into fruition. Sparky and I were almost always together. I taught him all of his tricks, took him on walks, spent hours playing with him, and sometimes even took unplanned naps with him on his oversized dog bed. Once we got a bit older, Sparky accompanied me on drives to pick up Julian, our brother, from school. He even came on a couple of dates with me and my high school boyfriend.
Summer 2016: Some Sparky love in the backyard of our new home
No matter how much time passes, Sparky and I’s bond never falters nor fades. We still enjoy adventures to our favorite local natural area, Markham park; we still chase each other around the backyard, and we still understand each other without sharing a language. It’s mostly this bond with Sparky that excites me to return to South Florida three times a year. Without Sparky, my unfavored state of Florida would become ever more exhausting.
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In March 2022, Sparky will be a whole decade old. With age, he has become a grumpy boy who reserves his love for the few people he values more than anyone else: his family. Our family.
I look forward to making sure the last few years of his life are filled with yummy carrots, mud puddles, squeaky stuffed toys, and all the ear scratches a pup could ask for.
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(Quick fun fact before I leave ... two years ago I got Sparky's name tattooed on the top of my foot. Photos not included but ... it's there FURever)
Growing up together, Sparky became attuned to my ever-cycling emotions. During difficult times, he’d curl up on the corner of my bed and watch me with careful eyes, making sure I knew he was with me. He’s licked the tears off my face countless times and somehow always knows when I need a hug. He proved to be the ideal, stereotypical, furry best friend.
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Ever since I graduated high school and moved out of my family home, Sparky and I don’t get to spend as much time together. The distance only makes our reunions more special. My first encounter when I return to Florida is always Sparky, repeatedly jumping feet into the air in attempts to lick my face. This routine doesn’t end until I bend down low enough for him to place his front paws on my shoulders, rewarding me with an irreplaceable embrace. And of course, as dogs do, Sparky won’t let our hugs exist without the company of slobbery kisses.
May 2018: Sparky and I on the morning of my high school graduation
One happy family :)