Dogs, Life

Ode to Huckleberry


Today is the one-year anniversary of us becoming dog owners. I thought about writing a post about the first few weeks of Huck’s life as our dog, but instead, I decided to write a rap (to the tune of “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air” theme song (any similarities in the lyrics are totally just a coincidence) and THEN to tell you about the first few weeks of his life. Because my blog, my life, my rules, lots of foot stomping, blah blah blah. You know the drill. 

IMG_8469Now, this is the story all about how
Our lives got flip-turned upside down
And I’d like to take a moment – don’t go away
I’ll tell you how Huck became the prince of the house by the Bay


In Stockton, California, born and raised
In the backyard was where he spent most of his days
Chillin’ out, napping, relaxin, sleeping’
Pullin’ on his chain outside the house
When this cute little guy (he was just feeling tense!)
Started diggin’ holes to get under the fence
He got out one little time and his mom got sad
She said “You’re moving to the shelter because you’ve been bad!”


We whistled for a dog and when he came near
His ears were very floppy, furry tail in the rear
If anything, we could say this dog was a hunk
And we said, “yeah, we’ll take him – dog, jump in the trunk!”


We pulled up to the house, number 978
And Huck said to the shelter, “Yo homes, smell ya later!”
He looked at his kingdom
He was here to stay!
To sit on his couch in the house by the Bay.

DSC_1369Huck, like many children and pets, was never supposed to be a part of our lives. Here are a few reasons why:

  • We weren’t allowed to have pets in our apartment
  • My husband was in grad school and I was away from the house in San Francisco 10-11 hours a day
  • We weren’t allowed to have pets in our apartment.

However, anyone who has ever met me is aware that “rules” are not something that I am especially interested in. Here’s what happened on Friday, March 7, 2014. My husband and I were eating lunch at a cafe, because he was on his lunch break from class and I was unemployed.

Me: We should get a dog.

Husband: We’re not allowed to have pets in our apartment.

Me: Yeah, but I really want a dog. I’m unemployed. Can’t I have a dog?

Husband: I’d really love to give you a dog, and I know you want one. But we’re not allowed to have pets in our apartment.

Me: How about we email the landlord to ask if maybe we CAN have pets in our apartment?

(A 30-minute long conversation followed at this point, and I’ll spare you the details. Basically, it was all of the very obvious reasons why we shouldn’t get a dog.)

(30 minutes later)

Me: Okay. It’s settled. I’ll email the landlord and ask if we can have a dog! (Two minutes of furious typing elapse, and I hit “Send.”) Done. Now we just wait!

(15 minutes later, as I’m dropping my husband off at school)

Me: I’m just going to swing by the East Bay SPCA to look at the doggies.

Husband: That sounds like an absolutely terrible idea.

Me: (driving away very quickly)

I arrived at the SPCA and found about a thousand chihuahuas, several pit bull and boxer mixes (adorable), and this.


(He had just been neutered.)

My husband and I were supposed to meet at a yoga class at 6 (this was a very special situation, as he does NOT do yoga. It was a very big deal.) At around 5:45, when I had already been at the shelter for about an hour and a half, this was our text exchange:

Husband: Are you just going to meet me at class?

Me: Well…I might be late. I met this dog.

Husband: …….

Me: …I may have put a deposit down? But he is VERY cute.

Husband: We still don’t know if we can get a dog.

Me: Yes. But you haven’t met this dog yet. It’s our dog. How can the landlord say no if it’s our dog?

Husband: He CAN say no. He can evict us.

Me: (Not feeling very certain) He wouldn’t do that! I’m certain of it. Anyway, I already gave them $25, so, that’s gone.

Husband: I’ll see you at yoga.

One hour of not-very-zen Friday night yoga later, we attempted to talk it out. Basically, we were making a decision between having an apartment and having a dog. Not the most reasonable or logical of choices.

My husband-to-be went the next day to meet Huck (alone – we knew there would be too much pressure if I was there), and sent me this picture:


And I knew he was a goner.

The next day (1 year ago today!), we went to the shelter, shelled out another $100 (you’re welcome, Huck) and took him home. And suddenly: we had a dog.

He is the furriest, nicest, funniest, weirdest animal I have ever met. He is so incredibly lazy, and yet is happy to go for whatever length run or hike you ask of him (although he may drag on the leash after a certain amount of time).

He’s nice to big dogs, small dogs, little kids and babies, and he loves every person he meets. He has the best attitude of any being I’ve ever known.

Most of all, he loves us unconditionally. And we love him unconditionally. Because he is the best little man.

Happy adoptiversary, little Huckleberry. You are the happiest thing in our lives.


2 thoughts on “Ode to Huckleberry”

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