She makes my dog happy.

Love is crazy. Anyone can tell you that.

What they can't tell you, is if it is real. There is no test or equation that can quantify it or qualify it. You have to just trust in the forces that have perpetuated humanity since Day 1. Duo was always a strange dog. The first time I saw him, he was in a playpen. Surrounded by 7 of his siblings. They were all at the peak of their puppy-ness, all bark and wiggle, as puppies are want to do. Not Duo though. He sat in the back of the children's playpen that was his Sing Sing and just watched. "I think he's special..." the lady trailed off. I guess she felt bad cause she felt he must have something wrong with him otherwise he wouldn't obviously be so "special" Did I not see it? Could I not feel that something was obviously very off with this dog? You're damn right I could. "Is the black one available?" Yeah, that one. The one that doesn't bark, nor wiggle, nor do anything more than sit there and study me with wee teddy bear eyes in a sort of appraising sort of way. Not in the what is his value appraisal sense. More of a "I wonder if his wallet has turkey in it" sense. Everyone says buy rescue and I get it I really do. I was on a mission however. I didn't just wanna acquire a dog. I needed a Service Dog. Prescribed by a doctor. This breeder allegedly had the smartest and "bestest" dogs you could find. Not for their non-jailhouse existence but for the ability to train and learn, Known for being smart. Service Dog. Right. Hahaha. If only I had realized then exactly what that meant.

Fast-Forward 4 years...

Duo is the quintessential Service Dog. Anything people do to try and trip him up or catch him not on duty he blows out of the water with panache and style. They say, "He has to be able to go to the bathroom on command!" "Can he do that?"

I chuckle because I've had this dog everywhere. I mean everywhere. From kids birthday parties to Ruby Tuesday's. From the bar on a Friday night. To the ICU. Everywhere I go they say "You can't have that dog here!". They cant deny me though, no matter how much they wish because he is a Service Dog. "He's not a German Shepard or Lab though?" they say, a little unshaken cause they just realized I've had my dog there for 3 hours and he hasn't made a sound. My little tiny genius of a Shih-Tzu. The uninitiated will forever be my favorites. I needed to take him out, so I go outside. A crowd has built behind me, wondering what will this little yap dog will do or not do next.

He always looks at me the same way. He never makes a sound, but to me he never shuts up. I say "Hey Duo!" to get his attention. He looks up. I run through the ASL sign language he knows to convey what I want him to do finishing with an imperious point at the ground. Duo walks over and does his business exactly where I pointed almost as if he wants to show how precise he can be. My little over achiever. PTA Dads and Soccer field bound mothers aren't this proud.

The messed up part of it all is that he IS a Service Dog. I have epilepsy. He has been specifically trained to recognize and respond to those events. Trained him myself in fact. Wasn't even hard considering he's "Special" and all that garbage. I have the greatest show off no-trick dog on the planet. He will literally do whatever I tell him whether spoken or signaled.

I had a stroke in 2018. I was in the hospital for 4 days. He stayed beside me through the entire ordeal. I slipped into respiratory distress at the er one night and they had to get mom cause this dog was running about trying to fix a problem he didn't know existed. A good boy? The Best Boy.

Then, without warning or subtilty, or even dramatic music for that matter, she came into my life.

I loved her from the start. So swift and sudden it was like being hit by a freight train. Some East by Wester that travelled at unheard of speeds and picked unlucky souls like myself off its windows with some goo destroying blue foam that sprung up from little nozzles as it whirred past at sub-sonic speeds.

I was hers. Duo was worse. Id never seen this Service Dog act like a real dog. In fact I was told "He needs to be a real dog, you know?" I went back to the hospital but this time in the COVID soaked atmosphere that dominates society today I was told I couldn't have him with me because they were medical professionals. Fools. So he went to stay with her while i recovered. A long 10 weeks.

When I came back and we were reunited he no longer listened to my words and signals. "Um sorry I think I broke him" she said as he danced around her ankles just waiting for a hint of a smile to bring him back to salvation. I understood exactly what he was saying. Time passed and events continued as life surely does and we became estranged and separated. Duo would stand at the window and just look out for long periods of time. "What do you think he's doing?" my mother would ask. I didn't need to guess. "He's looking for Alexis..." I would say. I would know this because i too was doing the very same thing. She would flit in and out of our life with the energy of a Delta crew promised a stopover after this last trip. He would always rush right to her and they would begin the subtle dance that was their relationship. I would sit and watch. Jealous of my partner in crime, my buddy, my son for lack of any better word.

After the separation people would always ask what it was that I saw in her. I had a million great and correct answers. I could have rattled any of them off with ease. However the answer that fought its way to the fore and demanded recognition was this. She made my dog happy and he was always there for me. No one else did it for him. He knew he loved her and was happy with that. That's what he needed. Her. She made my dog happy and I will always love her for it.