Meeting Remy

Misha passed away in July. She was old, a beautiful, sweet little girl. Well, not so little. She was a german shepherd, bloodhound mix, about 120 pounds and taller than me. But she was strong and loving and gentle, and passed away from cancer in her sleep.

I didn't want another dog. She was my best friend, no one could ever replace her. She grew up with me. But my family insisted we at least look at some puppies. My younger siblings, especially. They needed a dog in their life, a friend to grow up with. So I agreed to look. Just look.

We found a little mini dachshund online. He was just recently born, the only boy in his litter. He looked goofy and his name was listed as Jarvis (aptly so, as the Avengers movies were still being made then and everyone loved them). My mom bookmarked the page she found him at, and we stopped looking.

But it was too late. He took root in everyone's mind, and I would be lying if I said I didn't think he was adorable. But I was steadfast. I did not want another dog. He was not going to replace Misha.

"If we got another dog, what would we name him?" my sister asked me during breakfast. I sighed. "We're not getting another dog right now. And besides, we can't think of a name until we see how the dog acts."

I was steadfast in my pessimism. But no matter my arguments, Jarvis only grew in my family's hearts, and they finally decided to adopt him. Now we had to drive out and pick him up. I was devastated. He would replace Misha.

My father and I made the journey, leaving my mom and siblings to pick up the new puppy. We drove 14 hours straight (as my parents did not consider the location when they decided to adopt, and my father was too stubborn to take driving breaks). We stopped at the woman's address, stepped out of the car, and a puppy ran up to my foot.

It wasn't Jarvis. It was a little french bulldog, bow around her neck, tongue hanging happily out of her mouth. I giggled a little, looking at her goofy, smiling expression. I bent down to pet her as my father greeted the woman. They went inside together and my father signed some paperwork, then they returned outside with a little bundle in the woman's arms.

She came close to me, setting the bundle on the ground. Out wriggled little Jarvis, barely tall enough to see over the grass. He sniffed around, hopping until he smelled me, then attacked my leg in a fury of licks and tackles. Given his size, it felt like a tickle.

"You can pick him up, if you want," the woman urged, and I bent down to greet him. He jumped to boop my nose, falling back and wriggling to right himself. I laughed under my breath. "Hi buddy," I whispered, and he came running back up to my face.

I gingerly picked him up around the waist and butt, lifting him to eye level. His feet kicked in the air, and he stared at me with huge eyes, smiling. My stubbornness started to melt.

My father finished everything up, and the woman gave him a bag of puppy food that Jarvis had been eating. She explained how to wean him off of the food if we couldn't find the same brand, and off we went.

Since it was a 14 hour car ride home, I sat on the back bench of the car and set up an area for Jarvis to roam around. He mostly wanted to flop in my lap and sleep. Watching him melted my heart, and I began to accept him. He wouldn't replace Misha. He's a new set of memories.

We bonded in that car ride home. By the time we got back, I had him cradled like a baby and knew just how to calm him down when he started to get stressed or cry. I fed him from my hand, and walked him during our drive breaks. He liked to nestle into my hair and sniff around my neck. It was like we had both warmed up to each other and had begun bonding.

Even after the rest of my family met him, and he got to spend time with everyone, he still chose to waddle back to me for comfort at night. We decided to name him Remy for his affinity to climb into hair, after the Pixar rat.

Remy became my closest friend. He loves my siblings and parents, but we know each other best. We know how to comfort each other, how to sleep together, how to take care of one another.