This is Chet's story.
If I had to use one word to describe how I felt when I laid eyes on Chet, it would have to be "determined." He had been at Northeast Animal Shelter--a no-kill shelter in Salem, Massachusetts--for just one day, and the thought of leaving him there any longer broke my heart. I was with my fiancé, Joey, at the time, and he thought I was bluffing. How could I be so serious about taking home this hyperactive nine-month-old pup who seemed to have springs in his paws and major trust issues? As I have never been one to shy away from a challenge, the better question was, how could I not be serious?
Chet had been fostered in Indiana for a month, but where he was prior to that is anybody's guess. His sleek black coat, good aggression, and love of burrowing led the majority of people to suspect that he was a former Puerto Rican street dog.
Chet--who had been using the stage name "Bear" for his time in the shelter--barely stayed put long enough to be patted, and just as I was going to say, "At least he's quiet," he let out a howl. Simply put, he was twenty pounds of pure insanity. I came back the next night with all of the required paperwork, and the rest, as they say, is history.
When we brought Chet home, he immediately sprinted upstairs and did his business all over the carpet. Was this what the people at the shelter meant by "house-trained?" Days, weeks, and months later, Chet showed minimal signs of settling down. My friends raised their eyebrows and held their breath; Joey likely considered running away and never coming back.
Now, more than four years later, we couldn't possibly imagine life without Chet. Yes, he has his quirks. He sprints downstairs three paws at a time. We had to frame our entire deck and fenced-in yard with lattice so he would stop catapulting himself through the rails to freedom. Every morning, he lets himself into the bathroom the second he hears the shower shut off and leads me to his bowl with great urgency, in the event that I've forgotten it's breakfast time. Oh, and he thinks the people that live in the condo upstairs--as well as the mailman and anyone else who comes to the door--are one day going to kill us.
Regardless, Chet loves us without abandon. He wraps his little paws around our necks and kisses us until we can't breathe. He acts like we've returned from three tours of active duty when we come home from work each day, or even a thirty-minute trip to run errands. He paws at us to make room for him to nestle into our laps and contentedly cuddles, sighing deeply if we dare to move.
There is no one in this entire world who loves you as much as your dog does. Maybe it's because the dog needs you. Or it might be because dogs genuinely appreciate all that you do for them. Most likely, though, it's because dogs love differently, loyally, and unconditionally. They never let anything else get in the way of that.
What started as a Tumblr series turned into a book, and maybe it's just the stage mom in me, but we couldn't be happier to be a part of it. Learn more about The Black Dogs Project: Extraordinary Black Dogs and Why We Can't Forget Them here.
A portion of all proceeds for Black Dogs Project will be donated to Labradors and Friends.
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