Hey! It’s Me, Argus!!

It’s me, Argus. You know, Chris’s best friend.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dogs aren’t supposed to talk or type a story. Anyone who knows the power of dogs knows it's entirely in the realm of possibilities. We can be very determined when we want to be.

So, let me get to why I’m going to all this trouble. Brian Duggan, you know, the guy who wrote Emily in the Elevator: A 9/11 World Trade Center Love Story, didn’t tell you much about how I came to be with my human, Chris Anderson, Jr. This is a picture of me when I was 3 months old, one month after Chris found me. I was really small then. On the day he took this picture, he took me to meet his friends, Jim, Diane, and Nathaniel. They live on a farm with other dogs, cats, a horse, cows, and a goat. I had fun chasing some chickens before Chris caught me. I remember everyone fussed over me that day. 

Before I came to live with Chris, I lived with my mom and 6 brothers and sisters. I loved being part of a pack, even though my siblings weren’t always nice to me. There were many other dog families where we lived in a big, dark building. There were no windows, and we all stayed in pens. It was dirty and smelled bad because the caretakers didn’t clean out our pens very often. When all the dogs were talking, it was very loud there.

My mom was beautiful with her apricot-colored hair and dark brown eyes. She was a Poodle. If you read Emily’s story, you know I'm a chocolate Labradoodle. 

Mom looked out for me, being the runt of the litter and all. My siblings were much bigger and pushed me out of the way so they could drink mom’s milk. They would take it all and not leave any for me. 

Mom watched them drink, and when they had had enough, she used her paw to push one away. “Okay, my special little boy, it’s your turn.” She looked at me and smiled. Mom held my sibling back so I could have some nourishment. That is how I knew she loved me.

I don’t know why it happened, but some people came, put us all in a van, and took us from that place. They took all of the dog families. The new place was in a large building with plenty of light and windows. We had much bigger pens, and everything was really clean. The new people were nice and played with all of us. They let us go outside and run around and play. We never did that before. Mom got special food, and all of us pups started getting regular food. We were all very happy there. We were there for a few weeks when some people came and took my siblings away. I was the smallest, and no one seemed to want me. All my siblings were gone. It was just my mom and me.

So, this is how I met Chris. I was taking a nap, snuggled tight against my mom’s body, feeling her heart beat. It felt like she was a part of me. I woke up when I heard footsteps. A man was kneeling, looking at me. I was sleepy. I raised my head to look at the man. He had a nice smile with white teeth and smelled good.

“Hey there, little guy,” the man said as he looked at me. He turned to the caretaker, a young man in his early twenties, standing beside him.

“Can I hold him?” he asked the caretaker. “He’s so small. Is it okay to separate them now? I can wait.”

The caretaker opened the pen door, reached in, picked me up, and handed me to him. “The vet has given her approval on this one. We all had our concerns, but we have the okay if you want to take him today.”

He held me, rubbed my head, and scratched me under my chin. He smiled, looked down at me, and said, “What do you think, buddy? Do you want to come home with me? I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

He seemed nice, but I didn’t want to leave my mom.

The caretaker asked him, “You know, these dogs have a lot of energy. They need room to run and play. And they need to be walked a lot. Are you able to handle that?”

“Well,” he smiled while rubbing my ears, “I live in an apartment with lots of room, and I’m a few blocks from Central Park. He will get plenty of exercise. I’m active, too, and I’ll take him with me whenever I can. Hey, does he have a name?”

The caretaker responded, “Amy, one of the kennel assistants, named this little guy Argus. She said it means ‘caretaker’ because she thinks he will be a good companion. I like that. If you take him, you should consider keeping the name.”

“I like the name. I’ll take him home with me today.”

So, that was the day Chris Anderson, Jr, my human, took me home with him. From that day forward, we formed a pack, and he became everything in the world to me.

He took me to play in the park, and I discovered water there. Water is my favorite thing. If Chris gave me extra freedom to wander, I could jump in. He did once, but it hasn’t happened since. I got a bath when we got home that day. I don’t like baths.

He took me for walks several times every day. We stopped at coffee shops with outdoor patios. People stopped to pet me a lot. I really liked that. And Chris never forgot to bring treats and water for me. That is how I knew he loved me.

I don’t know when it happened, but it wasn’t long after I came to live with Chris that I noticed it. Sometimes, he got really quiet and didn’t talk to me. He didn’t talk to anyone. I could tell he was thinking about something sad. It was like when I thought about missing my mom, my brothers, and my sisters. When that happened, I needed to think about something else.

So, when I saw that Chris was quiet and sad, I put my paw on his hand and stared at him for the longest time. I did not like seeing him sad, but he didn’t understand what I was trying to say.

“Hey, buddy. Do you want to go for a walk? Is that what you’re trying to say?” I liked that he thought I wanted to go for a walk, so I let him think that. I like walks. And that is how I learned I could make him stop being sad. All we had to do was go for a walk, and it worked. We’ve been doing that ever since.