I am submitting this essay into a contest about how dogs change your life. It is a memoir and a thank you to my best buddy Ripple.
The same boyfriend who presented me with this perfect puppy also cheated on me with several other women, told lies to hurt my reputation, smashed my car window and my heart. I began second-guessing everything about myself. I was shattered. All that remained were pieces of the person I once was.
So, I turned to the easiest outlet for my pain, alcohol and ephedrine. I would drink Monday through Saturday and occasionally Sunday. The ephedrine was used to keep me awake and the alcohol was used to make me forget. However, with a four-month old puppy to take care of, I couldn’t completely destroy myself.
At 3:00am I would stumble home and find Ripple in her crate staring through the bars. It was this stare, that adorable, big-eyed look, which led me to finally let her sleep in the bed. It’s also what gets her extra treats today. We would cuddle up together, me stinking of booze and she with the sweet scent of puppy breath. In the morning I would awake to her whining in my face. Miss Ripple has always demanded to be feed at 7:00am. Since I was already up, I would go to class. While, I was barely able to care for myself, having to care for her saved me.
With honor cords dangling around my neck, I graduated from college that spring. Preceding our break-up, my boyfriend and I were planning to attend law school, get married, and live happily ever after. After my break-up and an uninspiring internship as a legal advocate, I was planning on nothing. My undergraduate degree was in philosophy. This skill was not sought after in the Help Wanted ads and I was clueless as to which direction to head. So I joined Americorp as a Volunteer in Service to America (VISTA) and Ripple and I moved to Baltimore, MD.
As a member of VISTA you have to live where you work. I was hired to help revitalize Waverly. Waverly sat directly across from Better Waverly, which had been destroyed by blight. Waverly was struggling to avoid a similar fate. I lived in a row home on 33rd street, with a yard the size of a jail cell. Ripple was a young lab who needed to run.
Everyday after work we would walk up 33rd street making our way to the park across from The Baltimore Museum of Art. This is where dogs and their humans gathered to socialize. It was here that I actually made friends in a city of strangers. Dogs are great conversation starters and seeing the same people routinely can lead to friendships. Through these friends I actually began to put myself back together. I wasn’t that Sorority President who got her heart broken. I was no longer the Vice President of the student body, who could barely do her job, due to depression. I wasn’t the idiot girlfriend who didn’t know her boyfriend was sleeping with everyone on campus. I was simply Ripple’s mom. It was a fresh start, a time to rebuild myself starting from my dog up.
Gradually the pain in my chest subsided and so did my need to be drunk. I was home more. I took better care of myself and subsequently took better care of Ripple. This was a good thing, because Ripple was sick in Baltimore all of the time. I don’t know whether it was the disgusting things she ate off the street or the other dogs she played with, but she was at the vet monthly. With so many extra bills, I couldn’t afford to drink if I wanted to.
Being in the inner city of Baltimore was scary. Walking by your self can be very dangerous. However, with Ripple by my side, I was able to go where I wanted. My dog’s presence provided me with protection. Sometimes people would actually cross the street to avoid walking past us. She gave me independence and confidence in an environment that otherwise could have turned me into a neurotic, frightened mess.
On one occasion she literally saved my life. I was picking a friend up from the bus station. While Ripple and I waited in my car an irrational man approached. He was yelling obscenities and began to pull on the car handle. Ripple let loose, barking, growling, and showing her fangs. The man took one look at her and backed away. His last words were, “You’re lucky that dog is in your car.” Funny, I was thinking the same thing. On the way home from the station my best friend Ripple sat in the front seat and my friend sat in the back.
After finishing my year-of-service in Baltimore, I was not my old self; instead I was a newer, braver version. I had survived in the city with a little help from my dog. I set my sights on new goals and had a better idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I enrolled in graduate studies at Shippensburg University’s Counseling Program. Once again Ripple and I moved and started a new life.
Shippensburg appealed to Ripple. She had a huge yard and learned how to open the back door. She spent the warmer months happily letting her self in and out of the house. It was not so pleasant for me. Finding appealing friends was difficult. The pace of Shippensburg crawled compared to the speed of Baltimore. I wanted to move near my friends in Philly and abandon graduate school. It was Ripple’s companionship that kept me going.
Ripple, like always went everywhere with me. We walked for coffee in the morning, went to see professors, she waited for me in the car while I did my grocery shopping, She was with me when I finally was able to run three miles and even sat next to me at the drive-in movies. It was because we were always together that a local newspaper writer noticed us and asked if he could use us for a story.
I always knew Ripple was calendar quality and now was her time to shine. I had her groomed to perfection for our photo shoot. The photographer took pictures of us playing on Shippensburg University’s campus. Ripple and I playing in the water fountain together, throwing a tennis ball, and the picture that finally got published, her and I simply resting under a tree. When the story came out, it was on the front page of the Shippensburg Sentinel.
The article reflected on our past three years together. I cautioned college students about the hazards of getting a dog while in school. Detailing the difficulties of paying vet bills, finding apartments that would allow pets, and having the time for your dog. Mostly though, it talked about my gratitude to Ripple, my constant friend during the most difficult years of my life. Through her eye’s I saw my goodness and self-worth. With her I met friends that aided me in my rebirth, and I stayed in graduate school.
I promised Ripple if she stuck it out with me, life would be nice for her someday. Throughout our time together we moved on eight different occasions, She lived in apartments, row homes, the country, and the inner city. She has spent days in puppy care, at friend’s houses, and home alone. Throughout all of this she has always greeted me with love and those big brown eyes. Four-years-ago I kept my promise to her. After meeting my current partner Dave, we bought a house with a fenced-in yard, close to a park. Dave loves her like she was always his. We take her on outdoor adventures, car rides, vacations, let her sleep in the bed, and always feed her by 7:00am. Life is good for us.
Ripple is now eight-years-old. The hair around her face is turning white. She hasn’t exactly settled down. She is still one of the fastest dogs at the park, but she sleeps more. She is a lot like me now, comfortable, settled, and happy. I feel as if I owe this all to her, my best friend, constant companion, and healer of my heart.
