You Can't Write This Stuff

We say this when something is so magical and so serendipitous that a human mind could never have imagined it... xxA

Three months after I underwent an invasive spinal surgery in February 2020, my then-boyfriend and I fostered a dog. At the time her name was Coco Puff. She was hairless and had terrible ear and skin infections that required daily medical baths and treatment. She was covered in mange, had PTSD, would pee in the house and she was “dog aggressive.”

We had just moved in with each other and, like I said, I was still recovering from a spinal surgery, soooooo it was a perfect time to adopt a special needs dog.

(face palm)

We brought her home thinking we would have her for two weeks. Three weeks later the shelter called and asked if we would keep her.

“She is too sensitive for the shelter.” they said.

It was the beginning of COVID, they were very low on staff and they really wanted her to find her forever home. They offered to pay for her medical bills for the next six months if we agreed to adopt her. They were worried that if she came back they might have to put her down.

I had always wanted a Pitbull and my ex always wanted a dog. We were broke and unemployed so a free dog seemed like an offer we couldn't refuse. After a few days of deliberation we said, yes.

I said yes because I wanted to help nurse her back to help, and I loved my boyfriend, and I wanted to start a little family with him. He said yes, he later told me, because he was “bored.”

The day we picked her up my boyfriend and I got in a fight about which collar we should get her. I, of course, had been researching collars in anticipation of getting a foster dog and thought I had picked out the perfect one. Looking back, I was wrong and he was right, but, I think at the time, I was more worried about his laissez-faire attitude towards the whole thing. I was already anticipating issues where as he was more of a “it will just work itself out” kind of a guy.

A difference that I later realized was at the root of many of our issues.

Within a week or so of getting her I knew she was going to require intense training. She would growl and snap at other dogs and I didn't trust her. I didn't know her and didn’t feel bonded to her yet. On the other hand, my boyfriend and her bonded right away. They had their own little hugging ritual where he would crouch down and she would slowly walk her front paws up his shoulders. It was precious. He quickly became the cool one, the fun one, the one she preferred.

I was the disciplinarian.

After countless fights I convinced him she needed professional training. Well, actually, he didn't agree to this until she almost attacked another dog on a hike. Only then did he take her behavioral issues seriously. Of course, we were still broke. So, I asked my dad to help us out with some of the costs. We got a dog trainer and started training consistently. We disagreed about a lot of that too, but, finally we got into a groove.

One day we were on a walk and I saw this tiny puppy on the sidewalk a few yards ahead of us. My first thought was…

“What the hell is this idiot doing with such a tiny puppy on the street??”

If you know anything about dogs and New York City sidewalks you know that they can't be on the street for the first few months until they are fully vaccinated against diseases that are spread by rats. Gross… I know.

My second thought was… “Oh, good. A puppy.”

We had just learned in training that Mashy (we renamed her Masha like the good Russian woman she was) was not actually aggressive. Instead, our trainer told us, because of everything she’d experienced, she was just very very scared. She dealt with this fear by being overly confident and “aggressive.” He told us we should take her on pack walks with other calm, non-aggressive dogs or puppies. So, naturally my next thought was…

“Maybe they live around here? This might be a potential pack walk person!'“

So, we stopped. We all had masks on because it was still 2020 peak COVID in NYC so it was hard to get a sense of this mystery man, but when he spoke I felt something. I wasn't really sure what it was, but I was intrigued.

Like a true Karen, I asked how old his dog was and if the vet had said she could be on the street.

“Yeah… I don't know. '' he said. “It’s kind of a debate between dog trainers and vets.”

“Okay…” I thought.

My intrigue lessened.

Nonetheless, my boyfriend and I went on to explain the whole pack walk thing and he asked the naive, new puppy owner if he would be up for some group walks. He said, yes, and my boyfriend got his number

“415 …” (dog-walking-guy)

“ 415??! . The Bay?! (me)

“Oh, yeah I grew up in SF.” (dog-walking-guy)

“What?? So did I” (me)

Intrigued once again.

We said goodbye and that was that. My boyfriend later sent me the guy's number because he didn't have time nor did he want to coordinate these walks. So, me and this ill-informed “dog-walking-guy” became “dog-walking-friends.”

We would meet up super early before work at 7 am to walk. We talked, mostly about our dogs, but sometimes things would veer off into subtly more personal content. Over the next few weeks, we slowly shared snippets about our friends, family, careers, and past lives.

It is important to note that the dog-walk-guy also had a girlfriend when we met. However, about a month into our dog walking “dates” he told me they’d broken up. I felt the intrigue once again. Something in my chest smiled when he told me about the break up. My reaction caught me off guard.

My boyfriend and I had been having troubles for a long time. We fought all the time and then would go days without talking to each other. At this point, I had tried every tactic I could to bring us closer. I even suggested couples therapy and was actively looking for a therapist. He was very uninterested. Even still I deeply believed that he was my soulmate. We had dated off-and-on for five and a half years and I really thought he was it for me.

We’d been living together for a year when I met the dog-walk-guy and breaking up with him wasn't even an option in my mind. We had been through so much. An emergency spinal surgery, COVID, unemployment, living off food stamps, moving in together, adopting a dog and all the while becoming more and more entangled in each other's families and friends. Breaking up was not something I wanted and yet, you can't love someone into loving you and you can't convince someone to stay who doesn't want to stay.

So, we broke up… but I still had to walk the dog.

Me and the “dog-walking-guy” continued to meet up for walks. I didn't tell him about the breakup for a week or so because I didn't want him to think he had anything to do with it. Eventually, I let it slip and he could barely hide his excitement.

A few days later we kissed.

Two years later we bought an apartment in what we both deem to be the best neighborhood in New York… Park Slope, Brooklyn. The “dog-walking-guy” took over loving and caring for Masha without skipping a beat and the two became inseparable.

About two years after moving to the Slope, in late August of 2024, we lost Masha due to an invasive, fast moving stomach cancer. After many sleepless nights of deliberation, and with the encouragement and guidance of several vets, we made the tough decision to put her down in our home surrounded by our other three other fur babies and, most importantly, her sister Izzy. The little puppy who had taught her how to trust again all those years ago.

Sometimes I think about this story and it makes me laugh because it reminds me of one of my favorite sayings.

You can't write this stuff.

We say this when something is so magical and so serendipitous that a human mind could never have imagined it.

I never would have thought I would end up with the “dog-walking-guy,” but here we are four and a half years later.

I am writing this now, from our apartment that we own, in our favorite neighborhood, on our couch, surrounded by pictures and memories of Masha, with Izzy lying at my feet and our kitties on my lap.

Life is so much more than we can ever imagine it will be and lord knows…

I couldn't write this stuff.

xxA