(Wo)man's best friend

I never thought I was a dog person. When ever I'd go over to someone else's place, a friend or a coworker or relative, and they had a dog, I'd cringe as it jumped up on me. I'd feel the urge to wash my hands as soon as a dog licked me and I couldn't stand slobber from the more salivatory types of dogs. Sure puppies were cute, but dogs just seemed messy and demanding. I always preferred my cat, who'd sleep next to me at night, and pretty much sleep all day, too.

After having a dog of my own for two and a half years, I have to admit my feelings have changed. My dog is Cassidy, and she's a 4-year-old mutt, part Shiba Inu, Keeshond and Staffordshire terrier, and who knows what else. She gives kisses on command, when we point a finger at our chin, and she knows lots of other tricks, such as shake, crawl, and even jumps through a hula hoop - all for treats, of course.

Just recently my mom nominated Cassidy for Cesar Millan's National Spokesdog competition. The competition is set up so the dogs get votes, but the votes cost $1 each, and the money goes to the Cesar and Ilusion Millan Foundation, which benefits shelter dogs across the country. Vote for Cassidy or add your own dog to the competition. After all, the money all goes for a good cause as my family learned in our journey with our shelter mutt.

I blame my sister for my transformation to a dog person, although maybe I am more of a Cassidy person. When my parents bought a house close to three years ago the first thing on my sister's agenda was to get a dog. We had a yard finally instead of a little patio, and no landlord to tell us we couldn't have pets. I said we should wait to get a dog since the three cats we had just went through a big change with the relocation. I thought they needed some time to settle in to the new place.

We moved to our current residence in January. And one day on the way home from San Jose, I jokingly suggested we should stop at the animal shelter in San Martin. My sister and my mom said it was a great idea. So we went in and looked at the dogs. The shelter in San Martin services unincorporated Santa Clara County and dogs picked up as strays from some of the police departments, and there are always a mix of chihuahuas and pit bulls, but often a lot of other mutts. I saw a shaggy red-haired dog that I liked, but my sister liked a black and tan terrier mix. We left after deciding to wait a while longer to get a dog.

The next day, though, I got a picture message on my phone of a dog and called my mom immediately. Turns out my sister and my mom had gone on their lunch hour to adopt the black and tan dog. It was early February and my mom had won a football pool. She used the money for the adoption fee. The dog was at home by the time I got off work and within weeks she was part of the family.

Not to say that it was easy. Cassidy, as my sister named her, was picked up as a stray. We didn't know anything about her history, but she came to us weighing 13 pounds with her hip bones sticking out, and her nipples leaking milk. She had a scar on her leg that looked very much like the remnants of an old dog bite. The shelter staff estimated that she was 2 years and one month old.

At first she was quiet and calm. She came to us housebroken and she knew basic commands such as sit. But within six weeks, her true personality had come out. She reacted agressively to people coming to the front door, our cats, people on bicycles, baby strollers and most especially, other dogs. She couldn't go to group classes because she'd go psycho as soon as she saw another dog, hackles up and nearly foaming at the mouth. It was a few months after we'd had Cassidy that we realized the commitment and work required with any dog, especially a shelter dog that probably hasn't been properly socialized.

It took three trainers and a year and a half of work before we found a trainer who taught us the tools to anticipate the things that will set Cassidy off, and the confidence to walk her without worrying about how she will react to other dogs. It still takes a lot of work, and alertness, and chicken treats, but we are now to the point where we've been able to take Cassidy to a beginning dog class and be in the same room with a dozen dogs and not have her go crazy.

It's been a long journey, but ulitimately it has been worth it - just to see Cassidy's wagging tail and get one of those kisses.

Photos by Melissa Flores

Cassidy on the day she came home to our house, all skin and bones.

Cassidy two years later, fattened up to a healthy 20-plus pounds and well-trained to do tricks on command.