Rhetoric

Mako Wish

Adventures of the world’s most perfect dog (mine) from an unbiased source (me).

Three years ago, after a stint with gardening and the untimely deaths of several houseplants, I decided I was ready for a dog.

I grew up around dogs, so I knew the commitment I was getting into. But I was independent, hardworking, and idling in that “now what?” ambivalence of post-college adulthood. I needed a companion, a jumpstart to my ambition, and, let’s be real, a reason to know what time it was.

It took a year of searching (mostly by my dedicated mother while I hemmed and hawed) before we found that fateful Craigslist post for the boy I’d soon name Mako. He was 18 months old and 12 pounds underweight. He lifted his leg immediately and hiccuped every time I touched him. He wore a black, spiked collar adorned with skulls. He really covered the gamut of, “I don’t know about this one.”

But then he looked at me with those little possum eyes, and it just felt right. I took a breath and wished for the best, and he became my dog. And every day since, he has proven to be exactly my dog.

I take him everywhere I can get away with, and he loves to go. He senses when I’m stressed, and knocks my phone out of my hands if I’ve been scrolling too long.We spend our free time on walkies, snackies, brushies, plushies—and don’t get me started on accessories. He is my screensaver, so I can look at him while I look at him. He’s less like a pet and more like a piece I’d been missing.

Things weren’t always easy. Case in point, Mako’s past owners didn’t neuter him, leaving me to do the honors. He was too clever for the cone, so I had to fashion a pair of dog pants out of an old pair of my own pants to keep him from his stitches. (OK, maybe I didn’t “have to.” But they had a little butt pocket!)

He’s also super picky and refuses food, even food he likes, for stupid reasons. It was our first Gotcha Day this year, and I bought him a cupcake from Woof Gang. He would not eat it. Why? Because it was too big. We ended up celebrating with teeny bits of cupcake for the next two weeks.

Through it all, Mako has made me a better person. My wish is to register him as a therapy dog, to share his big heart and u y coat with others, but he’s still too wary of strangers. So now it’s my job to make him a better person, too.

To that end, we visit the dog park and the Farmers Market, where he sits in his stroller and we watch all the other folks with their dogs, also in strollers. Sometimes I wonder about their stories, how they met. I imagine we’re all walking our own missing pieces.

That alone makes it almost worth having to pick up his poop in a bag with my hand.