When I was a child I was afraid of dogs. I thought they were dangerous predators. Dogs that barked loud scared me the most. Especially because my mom was attacked by dogs. First time it happened when she was 4. She told me she was bitten by a homeless dog and she had to get a shot. When my mom was in her 60s, she was attacked by a German Shepherd who escaped from his backyard through a hole in the fence, when she was walking by.
Luckily, I had an opportunity to meet very wonderful dogs who changed my perspective on dogs.
The first one was a labradoodle who belonged to my boss. I met him when the boss invited our entire team to his house for a potluck dinner. His dog was incredibly sweet. He didn’t bark at all, and he liked to lean on people, like a big soft pillow. He was also an excellent photo model.
Another dog who impressed m belonged to our dance costumes tailor. She had two little girls, and I had no idea what breed they were. They knew how to dance on hind legs (probably after seeing too many dancers who ordered costumes from their mom) and were clearly attention seekers. One of them had big sad eyes filled with so much emotion and love, that I immediately realized that I need to have my own dog.
Meanwhile my older son was begging me to get a dog.
Most of our friends tried to persuade me that it was a bad idea. They said I would end up walking this the dog all by myself. And that the dog would keep me very busy. They were right!
Initially, we sought a shelter puppy but ended up buying one from a local classifieds site. Unfortunately, the puppy became ill with parvovirus, and the breeder took him back, refunding us.
A few months later, through a friend, we found Archie, a golden Labrador retriever. Archie had a rough start, getting car sick on the way home, but we quickly fell in love. Despite the challenges, he became part of our family.
Now, almost two years old, Archie is an essential part of our lives. He goes to a “dog camp” when we’re away, and the joy he shows upon our return is unmatched. His loyalty, warmth, and humor make every day better. He’s a gentleman—offering subtle signs of affection like gently licking my leg or resting his head on my lap when he wants a treat.
Archie’s thoughts seem easy to read:
- “Why are you staring? Give me food!”
- “You’re still at the computer? Time to nudge you!”
- “Let’s walk! I need to sniff the ‘news’!”
- “You took my slipper? That’s our game!”
- “Oh, goat cheese? I’m here…”
- “It’s time to sniff everything outside!”
Archie and I understand each other, even if we don’t speak the same language. He knows when I’m upset and lies quietly beside me, glancing in my direction. If I had to describe Archie in one word, it would be “gentleman.”
Though he has his quirks — chewing on shoes, pulling on the leash, or ignoring his ball — I never stay mad at him. His love, loyalty, and the comfort he brings me make every moment together a treasure.
Archie isn’t just a pet; he’s my therapy, my joy, and my best friend. Hugging him makes everything better, whether he’s aware of it or not. And for his mother — who feeds him, walks him, and shares his photos on social media — Archie will do anything.
