Dish-Houston

By DISH Contributor Edana Walker

Two years ago, on Dec. 5, 2010, I met Peach Blossom Walker (formerly Ivy No Last Name) on the corner of 6th and Main in downtown L.A., at a mobile rescue event sponsored by the North Central Shelter and Pussy and Pooch Boutique. 3 days later, after her lady surgery, I took her home forever. For those 3 days in between, I went back and forth with myself about whether I had made the right decision about adopting a pit bull mix.

If I could send that 2010 version of me a note about this to chill her out it, would read in part: "Yes." It would read in full:

Peaches
Do This. She will be the most loyal being you have ever known. She will inspire that same loyalty in you. She will bury and then find and then re-bury and find again the same toxic tennis ball at a random park at least 6 times over the course of a year because she is smart. She will deconstruct all toys within an hour and then continue to drag their inside out plushy shells around. She will have a 51 inch vertical leap, straight up. Do NOT buy that doggy gate.

She will be brave if a little incautious. Like when that dude who just got out of the downtown lock-up suddenly appears out of nowhere one night when you're walking near City Hall and "asks" you and your cute puppy for your money, she will tell him to fuck off before you even open your mouth. She will occasionally tell your family and friends to fuck off too, but you will work with her on that. 

She will always wear her seat belt and sit patiently in the back seat with her toys when you drive and she will lick your scalp just to say hey every two hours on long road trips. And you will drive over 4100 miles together on the open road across many states, you two, and she will never complain about Car Talk.

Never turn your back on her and your freshly made Peanut Butter and Jam Sandwich. Because that shady little trick will try to steal it every time, and you will lose the last vestiges of your dignity in chasing her. (and you will chase her, because PB&J is your gift). She will eat a cheaper brand of dog food than you think she's worth, because she ain't fancy. In fact, she's common. Real common. Street Food common. You will learn out to pull a dirty, trash-covered chicken bone out of her mouth before she has a chance for the 2nd bite. One day as you walk down the street, you will even manage to pull a wad of paper out of her mouth before you realize it is that most frightening thing of all: A definitely used Tampax Maximus. Never speak of that day. Just forget about it. It did not happen. Stop thinking about it. What? Let's talk about weather. 

She will take to Chicago better than you do. She will like snow. She will make you like it again. Just never do another snow angel in life. Trust. She will like a lot of new experiences, after she gets over her fear (cars, elevators, carrots).

She will love your brother, on sight, full-stop.

When your folks come to visit for the holidays, she will bark at your Momma for 2 days. But don't despair. She will stop on Christmas Day. And then they will become great friends, because your mother values loyalty, and your dog values love. And your mother will begin to order you to bring "her" Peaches home to Texas for holidays or random months and she will ask to speak to her on the phone. And your dog's ears will perk up every time.

And eventually your mom and dad may even start to think about adding their own new doggy relation to the family, one who is loyal, and loving and common like yours. And you will let them know, from your own experience, that the only way to accomplish this is to find a shelter, like the North Central Shelter in L.A. (or it's Houston equivalent). And to check first for the Red Alert dogs, those pets who have been in shelter for the longest period allowed. And not because people will pat them on the back like they will pat you on the back for "saving" them. But because there is nothing quite so awesome as discovering that the random, filthy, too skinny dog you will first meet through a wire gate will someday become a love of your life. A love who aggressively licks your fingers when you've been typing too long because your tapping is disturbing her daily nap #7, currently taking place on your elbow. 

So read this or don't, 2010. You'll find out for yourself in a couple of days. Til then, keep dog-proofing your apartment, and back up your contacts. She is going to eat your blackberry in about a week.