I figured it was about time to have a Wrigley-focused blog post. He’s a big part of our little family and we don’t know what our day-to-day life would look like without his furry antics. Warning: this will be a long post!
Probably one of the first things people learn about Chip and I is that we are big-time dog people (we probably get judged a little for this, too! :)). I almost always had dogs while growing up and Chip also had a few dogs throughout his childhood. While I loved our family dogs growing up – and there were many! Blacky, Happy, Canelo, Caramelo, Scottie, Daisy, Jake and Penny – I couldn’t wait to have my “own” dog.
It was April of 2010 and I would soon be moving out of my apartment and into a small home. I was still trying to figure out who my new roommates would be and thought a dog would be a great companion and provide a sense of security if I were to live alone. I was also going through serious dog-withdrawal since I was going back home to Arizona less frequently because of work (I really do miss all of the breaks we would get in college!). All in all, it seemed like a perfect time to get a dog. Chip was very important in this whole dog searching process; even though we weren’t engaged at this point, I knew Chip was my future husband and that this would dog would be our dog. I also knew I wanted to rescue a dog. Even though my beloved Scottie was a purebred Sheltie and an absolute saint of a dog, I really wanted to get a shelter dog and save a puppy’s life instead of going through a breeder. So one evening, Chip and I were casually browsing SNIPSA’s website, a local pet fostering/adoption organization, and soon found this picture. We took one look and knew this had to be our dog.
We should have known by looking at his little mischievous face that he was going to be a handful, but we were too distracted by how adorable he was and how much he resembled a bear cub. Which is what led us to his name… Wrigley. Chip and I both love baseball and thought it would be fun to give our dogs baseball-related names. So yes, Wrigley is named after the Chicago Cubs ballpark (not after a brand of chewing gum).
We first met Wrigley at a SNIPSA adoption event shortly after seeing that adorable picture of his. Wrigley was only about 4 months old and a cuddly, curious little puppy. We were hooked right away and knew we had to take this guy home. We signed the necessary papers, wrote a check and were ready to hit up PetSmart for overpriced dog items. But we couldn’t take Wrigley to either of our homes right away since he was sick. Wrigley and his little sister were initially found roaming the streets of San Marcos and were brought to a shelter here in town, where they eventually landed in the care of SNIPSA. They had both gotten sick in that bit of time, but the SNIPSA staff initially thought they both just had kennel cough, something a lot of strays catch when they first go to animal shelters. So all we had to do was wait about a week for the kennel cough to go away and then we could bring our little pup home. After a few days, we hadn’t heard much on how the kennel cough was going. We gave the volunteer staff at SNIPSA a call and found out some bad news. Wrigley and his sister didn’t have kennel cough, but possibly parvo, a terrible disease for puppies.
Chip and I were both devastated and got pretty scared after researching the survival rate for a puppy Wrigley’s age getting parvo (I believe Chip banned me from Google-ing about it after a certain point). Within the next couple of days, we found out that Wrigley’s sister had passed away from the disease and Wrigley was still fighting it. The staff at SNIPSA was so caring and attentive to Wrigley and monitored him virtually around the clock. Unfortunately, Wrigley’s symptoms weren’t going away as the vets had hoped. This led to our next round of scary news: Wrigley most likely had developed distemper, not parvo, a disease with even worse survival rates. It was at this time that the kind staff at SNIPSA had a very realistic conversation with us on Wrigley’s chances, telling us not to get too attached to the little guy just in case he couldn’t pull through (too late! We were both hooked and bringing him lean ground beef and rice to help him eat!). The staff understood that we were both crazy about Wrigley and were willing to help in whichever way we could to try to get him better. They let us come out to where they were keeping him during that time and feed him, bathe him and just spend time playing with him.
We knew there was a good chance of Wrigley getting better when one of the vets called us one day to let us know Wrigley was finally eating some food. In fact, he had taken the vet’s breakfast taco that she had brought in that morning and ate the whole thing. His appetite was back! His fever was subsiding and it looked like he would finally be in the clear.
By this point, it was the first week in May. As it turns out, Chip would soon be proposing and knowing how much Wrigley already meant to the two of us, he was secretly in contact with the staff at SNIPSA to see if we could have Wrigley spend a weekend with us. The staff approved and gave me a call, telling me that they would have a lot of adoption events that coming weekend and that it would be great if we could take Wrigley for a couple of days to make sure he had someone watching over him in case he started to get sick again. This, of course, was a setup between Chip and the staff, a setup that I didn’t know about until after Chip proposed out in the hill country outside of San Antonio on May 7, 2010. It was so sweet to have Wrigley there with us that evening and I’m sure he enjoyed all the attention he got back at Chip’s place, where our family and friends were waiting to celebrate our engagement with us.
We love Wrigley. As I’ve mentioned before, he’s a crazy dog. But he’s our dog. He hates squirrels and will bark at them all day if they spend too much time on our backyard fence. He loves Cheerios and will try to learn any trick for one of those tasty grain O’s. He barks at us whenever one of his toys rolls under the couch so we can help him get his toy back. He absolutely loves attention and has no shame trying to get a belly rub from us or from any stranger, for that matter. He freaks out whenever he sees us grab his leash and will jump up and down in excitement until we get his harness on him. We love trying to make him “sing” and howl with us and laugh as we watch him run in and out of the small doggy-door in our living room. To us, he’s Wrigley. Mr. Wriggles. Wriggleroni. Wrigs. And occasionally “crazy dog” or “shaggy butt” (really, he’s got a bit of a butt-fro). He may be a terrible dog at times (like today, when he was trying to swipe some of our chicken quesadilla dinner off of the counter), but he loves us and we can’t imagine having any other dog.