Atlas

          I let my aunt go first because she had done this many times before. She grabbed the puppies one by one and pulled them out from under the porch of a small, shabby house. She set each dog in my arms to carry to the truck. Where they should’ve been white, they were stained grey from dirt. One puppy in particular, the plain black one, melted into my arms and gazed up at me. I felt my heart begin to melt. It was as if in that moment, he knew that his life was going to change. How these tiny animals still had any trust left in humans shocked me and saddened me at the same time. 

         I sat in the back seat of the truck, puppies piled on my lap as we drove back. We arrived at my aunt’s house and unloaded the four puppies into her yard. They wearily sniffed around, and gradually began to explore. All but the black one, who instead sought comfort in a little dirt hole in the ground. This animal had only been alive for a matter of weeks and already felt he had to fear the world. Something in me told me that I couldn’t leave this dog behind. I thought back to when he rested his head on my chest, looking up to me with sad, defeated eyes. He needed me.

         It was time for my mom and I to head back home to Eugene the next morning, and I still had that puppy on my mind. We gave them sky-related names because it was the week of the solar eclipse. Nova, Orion, Electra, and Atlas. Atlas’s siblings were gorgeous. They had beautiful markings and I was sure they’d be adopted in a heartbeat. Atlas was just a plain, black dog. While the other dogs wagged their tails with confidence, he stayed back. While the other puppies ran and played, he kept his distance. Atlas’s stomach was visibly distended from worms and it felt like a balloon that would pop if you touched him. I knew it was a long shot asking my mom if I could take him home with us, and I was shocked when her answer was yes.

         Now began my journey with Atlas. He rode with us in the car from Montana to Oregon, 12 hours. Our first days together consisted of plenty of treats, gentle touch, and verbal reassurance that it was going to be okay. Walking to him confidently or raising your voice at all caused him to scamper for shelter under the table. It was going to take patience, but I knew what I’d signed myself up for, and I was determined to make it work out. 

        My first night with Atlas was far from restful. I woke up to screaming coming from his crate. I figured he was just lonely and not used to sleeping alone, so I allowed it to continue. I didn’t want to reinforce his screams by letting him out. When he finally hushed around 3am, I opened the crate door to find diarrhea smeared all over the crate and all over Atlas. Right up to the bathtub we went, and I got him washed up. Next I washed the crate and replaced the soiled towels that lined it. This wouldn’t be the last 3am horror I faced. 

         Talking on the phone and scheduling appointments was a skill I had to become comfortable with. I scheduled appointments for Atlas to get his vaccinations and dewormer. He was diagnosed with Giardia after our vet visit, and the poop party continued until the Giardia cleared up. Finally, after grueling days of cleaning diarrhea, Atlas was healthy and ready to start making real strides in his confidence. I began taking him to puppy classes for socialization and working with him daily on skills that he would need in the future. 

I introduced him to new people, cats, other dogs, and other things he may encounter later in life. I began to teach him necessary skills like walking on a leash, sit, settle on a mat, leave it, touch, recall, and more. Atlas was eager to learn and eager to explore. Now, he came to us with his tail wagging, and his head up. The growth this dog was making was truly amazing. Atlas and I were a team, and we were getting closer and closer to being ready to face the world. I decided not to think about the fact that I wasn’t going to be his teammate for much longer. 

         16 weeks old, and we were on to the final step in our journey together. He was going to be neutered. Once recovered from surgery, it was time to hand him off to a new family, to a new best friend, a new teammate. During our last days together, I took tons of photos of him so I could advertise him online as being available to adopt. I typed up a description of this special dog, including every detail. From the terrified, filthy puppy I once knew, to the strong and intelligent dog he had become. 

Responses came flooding in after only a day of the advertisement being up. Lots of people wanted to come meet this remarkably handsome puppy. My mom and I sifted through the replies and selected the ones who we thought might provide the best life for Atlas. A young couple and their dog were the first to meet him. I had never seen Atlas warm up to people as quickly as he warmed up to them. I had never seen him play with a dog as joyfully as he played with their dog. “We wanted a black dog, and we wanted to name him Atlas,” they mentioned.

         When they finally left, my mom and I looked at eachother. It couldn't get more perfect than that. We told all of the other applicants that he had found a home. Immediately, we called the couple and said we wanted them to adopt Atlas. Tears were shed, but it wasn’t just sadness. It was so bittersweet, I wasn’t sure how to feel. I was proud of myself for persisting, for keeping up my end of the promise. I was proud of myself for staying strong through all of the hardships that come with rehabilitating an emotionally broken animal. Most of all, I was proud of myself for being able to form such a strong bond and then let him go.

The next day would be the last day I could call this special, remarkable, and brilliant dog mine. The lovely smell of puppy breath, that wiggly puppy tail, and the warm puppy snuggles were going to be painfully missed. The hurdles we jumped together strengthened our relationship, and the progress we made was unforgettable. Sending him off to his new home after nine weeks was perhaps one of the hardest things I’ve done, but I knew my role in his life was to get him healthy, confident, and be his bridge to a bright future.