I got my first dog in 1980 when I was 14 years old. He was a beautiful stray American Eskimo Spitz/Samoyed mix, and my brother was outside on a beautiful summer day in the suburbs of Chicago, and along came this dog. My brother lured him into the house, unbeknownst to our mother who was at work. When she came home later that evening she heard barking. Then she saw this streak of white bounding towards her. The she asked (or rather shouted) “whose dog is this and where did it come from!” My brother sheepishly replied “I just opened the door and he came right in”. I was officially hooked.

Snow was the first dog I ever really came into contact with in my young life. The vet thought he was around 1-1/2 years old. We had a lot of fun with him for 12 years, on the day my sister got married, August 8, 1992, Snow had a massive stroke. My boyfriend (now my husband Mark) raced over and we took him to the vet and they stabilized him, but by Monday he was in worse shape than when we brought him in, so I called my family (minus my sister who was on her honeymoon in Hawaii) to let them know that he had to be put down, and ask if anyone would like to see him prior to that. I called the vet and gave them the okay, and my first beloved dog was gone.

My husband and I were married on October 9, 1993 and when we bought our first home in January 1994 I announced very tearfully that I had to have another dog, I couldn’t handle being without one any longer. In April, a litter of black Labrador Retrievers was born, and the weekend of July 4, 1994 we brought home Smokie Bear. He was a bundle of trouble!!! One year later, we adopted a sweet Rhodesian Ridgeback we named Daisy Mae, and I felt that our family was complete. I was wrong. Our neighbors’ cat had just had kittens and I fell in love with a sweet black kitty who I named Boris. Boris was raised with the dogs; therefore he was the most awesome cat ever. He would come when I called him, he loved to be around people, and he loved his two huge cousins. We acquired Rascal in 1999 from a friend of my mom who fell on hard times and had to move in with a friend who was highly allergic to cats. She asked if we could keep him for a year, and she thought she would be back on her feet.

We have had Rascal now for 11 years, and he is still very healthy. We had such a wonderful life with all of them. Boris passed away in 2006 at only 10 years old from a very aggressive form of cancer…I still haven’t gotten over the loss of Boris…within 3 weeks he got sick and died. No warning at all. Smokie’s body started suffering, especially his legs. In November of 2007 when we were evacuated from our home for 10 days because of the Grass Valley fire, it was pretty much the last straw. He went downhill fast. In the end of January 2008, he started giving us the look that he was tired and ready to move on. February 8, 2008 we put our sweet boy down while we were with him, we both hugged him and told him how much we love him and will miss him, and that he was such a good boy. Our Smokie was gone.

Meanwhile, Daisy is still holding her own pretty well so we decided that we never want to be without a dog again, so we went to petfinder.com and decided we wanted to adopt a pit bull mix, as we have loved the breed for years. We noticed a lot of the dogs’ profiles we really liked came from Downtown Dog Rescue in Los Angeles. Mark fell in love with a sweet brindle puppy, and I had taken a liking to a dog named Mako and another named Bacardi, but Mark was set on this puppy. We called over and left a message and filled out an application online, complete with a slideshow of our sweet Smokie’s life. The office manager called us later that day and said there was no way we could have a dog because we live all the way in Lake Arrowhead (three hours from Vegas) and they didn’t have time to drive all the way out here to do home visits. Mark and I were absolutely crushed.

Out of the blue we received a call from someone by the name of Lori, saying that she just looked at our application and she watched my slideshow, and announced tearfully that we could have just about any dog we would like. She said that we were precisely the people she was looking for for her dogs, and she asked if, instead of a puppy, would we consider adopting a year or two old dog? I immediately said yes (I remember the hellish time we had raising Smokie!). She said she had the perfect dog for us, and said her name is Bacardi…I was thrilled because she was one of my favorites.

We arrived the next day, crate and blanket with our scent all over it in tow. Let me just tell you…Bacardi was so cute and sweet, it took my breath away. We were in love, but asked if we could change her name, because Bacardi is no name for her…we had discussed it on the way and had settled on Maggie. We couldn’t take her home right away because we were having guests for a week and wouldn’t be home a lot and asked if they would mind calling her Maggie from now on. We picked her up on April 20, 2008 with my sister in tow (I told her we were picking up a new doggie and wanted her to come with us…we told her she was a mutt because my sister is afraid of pits).

The minute Maggie came out wiggling and wagging so hard she whapped herself in the ribs with her tail, my sister was smitten. After a day of playing with Maggie we told her that she was a Staffordshire Terrier, a close relation to the American Pit Bull. When she returned back to Chicago on Monday she called to let us know she was home and announced “I miss Maggie”. I said thanks! I love you too!!! We laughed and she said Of course I miss you and Mark too!

Meanwhile, Daisy’s back legs were slowing losing function and Maggie wanted to play with Daisy. Daisy wanted to play also, but she was so unsteady Maggie kept knocking her over. In November 2008 I had an idea that would either work beautifully or would totally blow up in our face. I told Mark that I wanted to call Lori to tell her that if she could find us another Maggie we might be interested in adopting to take some of the pressure off of Daisy. It wasn’t more than a day or two later I got a phone call from Lori saying that she had taken in a dog who is a lot like Maggie, very sweet and loving and doesn’t try to eat her cats 😉

She sent us a picture of Shirley and a little bit about her, and we decided that the next weekend we would pack up Maggie and go take a look at Shirley. The meeting went very well. Maggie and Shirley (now named Trixie) hit it off wonderfully, so we took her home that day!!! After a lot of holding my breath, my plan worked. Maggie and Trixie played constantly and left Daisy alone. The most wonderful thing was that when Daisy decided she wanted to play too, both Maggie and Trixie played so gently with her. It brought tears to my eyes.

Daisy was such a trooper, but by mid-April 2009 she was beginning to go downhill fast. One day she and I shared a moment and she let me know that it was her time to go. On May 9, 2009 we said goodbye to our sweet girl. This time she was surrounded by friends we had made at the animal hospital. The room was full of people who loved Daisy and we all got to tell her that we love her and that she was a great ‘best friend’. We all hugged and cried and laughed. It was amazing. When we returned home without Daisy, the girls were so sad. They moped for 3 days – no playing, just cuddling and comforting mom and dad.

Since adopting these two amazing dogs our lives have changed so much. Maggie and Trixie have changed so many opinions of the breed. When my mom was coming out for a week she knew that we had adopted two new dogs but we told her they were just mutts from the shelter. She was a bit taken aback when she first met them, but by the time she left, she was in love, calling them her grand puppies, just like Smokie and Daisy. Our neighbor’s son now wants a pit bull, and their two daughters argue about which one will walk over and take them out when we’re gone all day or over the weekend.

Every one of our neighbors, even people in the neighborhood where we walk the dogs, have been changed for the better by these two amazing girls. When Trixie first came to live with us, she made us and most others who met her a little nervous. She had that look in her eye like she was waiting for the abuse to begin, and she really did not trust us one little bit. Mark and I kept showering her with love. Hugging her and telling her we love her and she will never have to be afraid of losing her home again. We gave her kisses, and I always looked her in her eyes with the most loving smile I could muster and say softly how much I love her. Now she is letting her personality shine, and she is the sweetest, most loving, goofy, silly, happy, bouncy little girl ever. If she does something that makes us laugh, she just keeps on doing it…she gets drunk with the sound of our laughter.

Mark and I never thought we could ever love any dogs as much as Smokie and Daisy, but we absolutely do. Maybe not more, but we love them differently. I think that as a breed they love deeper, trust deeper, and connect deeper with us. When they look at us, we are so embarrassed because we just feel so unworthy of their total and complete devotion, and they have made us better people I think.