“I bid you beware,
of giving your heart to a dog to tear.”
— Rudyard Kipling, The Power of the Dog
I remember how scared you were that first day we met.
You were the dog that was “tough to adopt”.
We knew your story, how badly you had been treated in a breeding mill, and that you were truly traumatized.
You barked at us. You barked at everyone. You were afraid of everything.
But we didn’t know any better. We decided that day that you were our dog. So we took you home and figured it out.
On the drive from Ohio, I sat in the back with you. Petted you the whole way. Told you everything would be okay.
We stopped at a Meijer on the way back and bought a dog bed. We hadn’t even thought that far.
I had never been to Ohio. And I had never had a dog of my own. Until I met Zeus.
When I turned 21, I graduated college and started a business right away. That’s what the family needed.
9 months later, we hit the first stability point and I started thinking about the future.
I always wanted a dog, so I started researching.
I wanted a dog that’s not too big or too small, smart and curious, and super loving, if discerning. Like me?
Then I read about this breed of dogs, Shiba Inus, exactly what I wanted.
This was in 2011. Before the memes. Before the crypto. Back then, they were just known as cute but hard to train dogs.
But something about Shibas I knew would change our lives.
We found the nearest Shiba Inu rescue, a 3 hour drive away.
Zeus was so beautiful, and so scared.
I just wanted to hug him. But he couldn’t even relax enough to say hi.
It took weeks of love for you to be comfortable with us petting you. Months to feel safe at home. But those years after we earned your love were amazing.
We loved Zeus with every corner of our hearts. And he changed. His love opened up when he saw our hearts open for him.
He got comfortable with my family and friends too, and we could finally have people over again without him barking nonstop.
In a couple years, he was the cuddliest Shiba Inu ever. He would just curl up and melt in my lap like no Shiba is ever supposed to do.
“Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve”
— Rudyard Kipling, The Power of the Dog
We were beyond lucky to have you for over 14 years.
17 and a half years is a hell of a run for any dog.
Even as your body faded for over a year, I could still look in your eyes and see you thinking, and caring, and loving.
I hand fed you food and water and medicine for weeks when you were too blind to find the bowls.
Those last days got really tough. You would yelp in pain every hour in the middle of the night, and I’d jump out of bed every time to comfort you.
Finally, on Friday, you were barking in pain every few minutes, even in bed. I set a vet appointment for Monday, and did everything I could to save you over that weekend.
I carried you out to our front lawn every hour or two so you could lay in the warm sun as long as possible.
On that last day, you were barking in pain even when I was holding you carefully in my arms.
At the vet, I petted you the whole way. Told you everything would be okay.
Even after 17 and a half years, you were gone decades too soon.
Our faithful guard dog Zeus.
Zeus, you were everything to us, our first baby.
I loved watching you grow up, find your family, and protect us every day of your life.
I remember when we set up our first baby playpen waiting for Kai.
All of a sudden, your new sleeping spot was right in front of his door.
You were ready to be his guard dog even before he was born.
That’s how I’ll always remember you.
Strong. Loving. Our dog Zeus.
Love you forever buddy.
These walks at Fort Funston were some of the happiest moments of my life.
I love you so much Zeusy.