My Lady

I genuinely don't remember who rescued whom? I say this while I'm sitting here dealing with another panic attack and watch my little furry best friend calm me down. She never had the training to be an emotional support dog, but she is doing it.

I've dealt with massive anxiety and depression challenges since I can remember. I've been off and on medication for it. I've done meditation, yoga, gratitude journals - you name it, I've tried it. Still - the attacks happen. It got to the point that I just thought, "this is how it is going to be."

That is until we got her - Snow.

Scrolling through countless ads looking to adopt a second dog was entertaining. Seeing the different breeds and imagining what they would be like to be a part of the family. We'd only get so far until the species we wanted to inquire about stated that the dogs weren't good with small dogs.

Who knew that finding a second bigger dog for our little one would be so hard? It seems that larger dogs tend to have a prey drive instinct that is hard to train out of older pups. We also didn't want to get another puppy, no, I specifically wanted to adopt, and I didn't want to wait around for a puppy to be born.

I almost didn't see her ad, she was just this meek-looking dog, and I didn't think she looked that big. I started to scroll past her, but I caught her pink coat in the corner of my eye, and I was intrigued.

Snow, a Spanish Podenco, two weeks into her new country and ready to meet a veteran dog owner. Shy needs encouragement but great temperament and plays well with all dogs.

"...plays well with all dogs." I just had to enquire about that also meant small dogs.

A day later, we were eagerly waiting for the ladies from the shelter to come over with Snow. They wanted to check out the living status and show us how to work with her (since Snow was an abused dog) and needed to make sure that her outside area was safe. Podenco Canarios tend to be expert jumpers and could clear a 12-foot fence - good thing that we had 14 feet.

The meet and greet lasted about an hour, where we got to understand some dos and don'ts and see if both dogs would get along. Our pup can be more people-focused versus dog-focused. Thankfully, both got along, and we signed a two-week trial to see if she would fit in with our family.

There were countless setbacks; dealing with a dog with the trauma, we may get her to eat, but then she will turn around and defecate on the floor if we got too close.

I guess my husband and I decided to make it official when she started to wag her tail and follow me around the house (five days into her stay.)

It was around this time; I started my journey of becoming self-aware of my anxiety. Dogs and children tend to feed off the energy we give off, so if I were more anxious around her, she, in turn, would be nervous around me.

We started working together, Snow and I. But something was off - her name, Snow, didn't fit her personality. Sure, she is almost pure white, aside from the patches on her head and tail, but she is so much more than white as snow. The more time she spent with us, the more we would get to see this new side of her flourishing. Snow was becoming a clown (even when she may not mean to be.)

Picture Bambi on ice - the use of those long legs on Snow would be so graceful outside running, but being inside - it's like she didn't know how to move. Perhaps it was the fact that her previous owner would lock her up if she weren't hunting, locked up in small spaces not given free rein to move. She didn't understand her legs much - Snow would crash up and down the steps or even bash into walls because stopping was hard on the hardwood.

A dog that didn't know how to dog, to be honest. But as much as it was heartbreaking to think about - it wasn't where Snow was now.

Snow was so graceful when running - those legs knew what to do then. Outside was her element, and even when she would trot or prance about the yard looking for rabbits, she looked so elegant.

She blossomed outside and even more so around me to the point that I couldn't get the name out of my head - Lady. She was so ladylike in her manner of expression. So soft and dainty pats of her paws onto my leg to signal wanting pets, soft nuzzles against me, or little nips on my fingers when I'd pet her muzzle just right.

Lady.

The name formed in my mouth countless times and said it in passing to my husband, but I never thought he would listen because it was supposed to be his dog. He was supposed to find her name. (We all knew the truth by this point - she was becoming mine.)

One night my husband came into the room and saw the two of us interacting, and he just told me to get my shoes on we were going out.

He took me to the local pet store and bought the name tag with "Lady" on it and a few other items for her. By then, we weren't 100% decided on keeping her, but I guess he wouldn't say no when we both bonded to each other as much as we did.

Lady. My Lady.

She was home to stay.

It wasn't always easy to deal with a traumatic dog, but it got better. Like myself, Lady still has terrible days where bonding with my husband is complex. Loud noises still spook her from time to time - but she always stays by my side and never takes off.

I feel like she had grown further when we decided to expand our family to five. Lady took the liberty to stay by my side throughout the pregnancy, carefully nuzzling my belly and cuddling up next to my daughter (when she stopped moving.)

I've watched Lady become thrilled with my daughter's awake periods after birth and even more so now that she is crawling around. Lady takes the time to play tenderly with my daughter, carefully pulling balls out of her hand and running away before being "caught." My kiddo would laugh, and Lady would repeat the process some distance away.

Lady has been the best adoption I could ever have. She may not be easy all the time, but she makes it easy to fall for herself and her goofy side.

I told my husband that after she passes (and I will dread that day), I want to honor her by always adopting another Podenco Canario.

Podencos are special hunting dogs that live in Spain - mostly known as 'Invisible Dogs' or 'The Great Forgotten.' Subsequently, they are also one of Spain's most abused dogs - since they are "working dogs." Thus hunters do not have to treat them as anything other than a 'tool.'

An estimated 60,000 to 80,000 dogs are dumped, abandoned, or killed at the end of each hunting season - which ends in February. I will link a website that I have used to research most of my findings for Podencos.

Until I met Lady, I never knew such a beautiful and gentle breed existed. She has been an excellent addition to our budding family. So, it is hard to understand that she came from such terror. Dear reader, if you ever think to adopt another pup think about the Podenco. They are the particular clown that you need.

https://www.hopeforpodencos.com/