Living With Cujo

I’ve Known Him for 16 Years, and He Can Still Surprise Me.

Content Warning: Pet Loss.

In 2008, Darren and I had been married for a while and I was watching a Shiba Inu puppy cam. As the puppies went to their new home, I informed Darren it was high time we expanded our family to include a dog, and that he could either come with me to the pound and pick a dog out, or I would bring one home without his input.

At the time, we were living in North Hollywood in a garage that had been converted into an apartment, so we headed to Los Angeles City East Valley Animal Shelter.

Here’s my moment to beg you to adopt a dog. Adopt, don’t shop. There are so many dogs that need a home.

It happened that the day we went to the shelter, Cujo (Named “Valentino”) was one such dog who needed a home. We would have missed him if he didn’t give one, strong, firm bark at Darren as he walked by.

As soon as I met him, I knew he’d have to come home with us. We were let into a little room and I basically sat on the floor with him and just held his trembling, desperate little body. He was our “most expensive dog” costing us all of $75 (the other two we eventually collected were free). We had to sign paperwork saying we understood that he was a bit mental — he’d never be normal, he had been turned in with head injuries and was not a well-adjusted dog.