Tiny Dog Stories – Winter 2023

Annie Loves the Mutts 

My name is Angela Wilson, but everyone calls me Annie. I was born with a rare form of Muscular Dystrophy called Spinal Muscular Atrophy. I was diagnosed at the young age of six months with Type 1. My life expectancy was age three. Throughout my life, everyone counted me out. I started volunteering at Muttville Senior Dog Rescue in San Francisco in 2021. I foster dogs, write bios, and make videos for the mutts! I even adopted two seniors of my own. Now 41, helping to get the senior dogs adopted is absolutely one of the biggest accomplishments in my life.—Angela Wilson 

What Matters Most

A few days ago, I lost my girl, Bella. She came to me when I was going through divorce eight years ago. I already had two dogs, but adding Bella to my pack was a non-negotiable. She was mine, and I was hers. She was my shadow, my protector, my bestie. I knew this moment would come one day. I just wasn't expecting it to be NOW. Moments like these force us to stop the train of busyness and focus on what matters the most. Most of the time, it’s right in front of us. Hold your fur-babies tight.—Christina Cuevas 

Named 

It took me seven months to name our biggest dog, a Standard Poodle from Mississippi. Less than two, yet we were his third owners. His papers said “Walker,” but he knew no loyalty to that name. He needed a good name because he is a wonderful dog. We wanted him to know that this was going to be his forever home. He’s loyal, big, but at times very bouncy. He’s quiet and has taken to the cats. 

We share long walks every day. After seven months, we named him “Kabuki George.” He seems to like it.—Joseph Dewan 

Hope on Four Legs

During a period of great sadness in my life, you ran up to me at a local park with a pink tennis ball in your mouth. Retrieving it, I saw the word printed upon it: “hope.” That moment was transformative—I sensed some greater power had brought you and the hopeful tennis ball into my life. Years later, you live with me and are my best friend. You have helped me move from despair to a place of gratitude. One of my stories was published, and you leaped up, licked my face as if to say, “Congratulations! Way to go!”—Renee Skudra 

Best Friends 

I’m a veteran from the Canadian Military, retired medically with PTSD. I was on a list for a service dog for five years. Yes, five—a long wait. When I got the call that they had a dog for me, I was so excited. I had to go to Kitchener, ON, for a week to train with my boy, Thunder. We’ve been together for four years now. He goes everywhere with me—massage, chiro, neurofeedback. He’s been to six Toronto Maple Leafs games. He’s my best friend. I feel like the luckiest person alive.—Kevin Barter 

I Wear Flowers on My Arm 

The small Chihuahua nips my arm / Where the cherry blossoms are blooming / And the butterfly flutters / Could he know / That I got this tattoo / In memory of my precious son? 

It doesn’t really matter. 

Or perhaps it does, / Because / The next thing I did / Was adopt him. 

As with all large or small changes in this world / We must come to accept that / Life has to go on. 

I am grateful for my Chihuahua / Nipping my tattoo for whatever crazy sweet reason he has, / And suddenly reminding me of Robert.—Jean B. Yates 

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This article originally appeared in the award-winning Modern Dog magazine. Subscribe today!