My beautiful little yellow lab “Vega” has the spirit of the star after which she is named. When she knows she is in trouble, those in her presence know she believes it is worth it to have achieved her mission.
When she was selected from her littermates, she was only two weeks old, and her little eyes were still closed. Over the course of the next six weeks, she was most likely dropped by one of the children at the daycare where her litter was raised.
The day I went to pick her up she hid in the corner of her pen while every other puppy rattled the fence with their front paws screaming to go home to a new family.
During her first few days at home she continued to hide. She slept underneath a bookcase until she could no longer fit. As days became weeks she dared to try things, and her sweet personality emerged. It was impossible not to love her. Adventurous and brave, she started patrolling the boundary lines of her territory, chasing chickens, and laying out in the open soaking up the sun.
She ruined one of my favorite sneakers. Her lack of remorse was remarkable. I realized I admired her will and dedication to stand by the choices she had made. She taught me to never look back. She chewed the shoe because she wanted to. It was that simple. Whatever she had to face because of that decision, she was prepared. And I loved her for that.
Neither one of us knew that I was going to have to leave her. I was in an abusive situation and could not take Vega with me when I decided I could not return home. Since I know her so well, I know she is fine without me. She still has her territory and her chickens and her sunshine. I am severely more burdened by her absence than she is by mine. I love that little dog and will always remember that shoe she destroyed.
This guest post was written by Emma Seyes, who also writes for Hound Crazy.
