Pruppet of the Month: Mason


Mason’s Story as told by his Mom Kamiko:

I had always wanted a dog of my own growing up (I’m 21 now), to help with my on-going depression and anxiety. So when I was 14 I convinced my mom to help me buy a dog if I committed to contacting breeders and shelters to adopt my desired Doberman puppy. Inquiry after inquiry fell through, I was beginning to lose that childish hope of finally getting my puppy. Until my mom decided to inquire about a lone puppy that was in his last days on death row. Such a cute baby, it was hard to believe that he was going to be put down simply because no one was there to adopt him soon enough. We were approved to adopt and he and I were almost immediately inseparable.

Wherever I went, he followed. And to this day, after I’ve officially taken on the role of his owner, it’s the same story. When I had to leave him for a year to do mission work in Mexico, my mom would send me pictures, videos, updates about how he was dealing with my absence. Of course, it broke my heart. Even more so when I finally came back home and not more than a month afterward, we found a lump on his chest.

I was still recovering from a year without income in a foreign country, so I didn’t have the money at the time to afford expensive treatments, so I prayed and hoped and kept a watchful eye on the lump and his behavior. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve cried over the idea of losing him. Of course, we all see our dogs as valued members of our homes – how can we not? We grow so attached to their loving ways and sweet gestures, and though we might not always admit it, their naughty antics are often endearing. I have come realize that even though my family and I may have saved him from being put down, he’s literally saved MY life. I know he’s just a dog, and doesn’t understand how much he does for me, nor does he do it on purpose the way I sometimes feel he does. But he’s been a source of comfort for me through countless years of feeling alone, of feeling like I shouldn’t be here, and through years of living in an unstable home.

For the past year and a half, as the lump has gotten bigger, my biggest fear has been, “what if it’s cancer?” Until just last week, I got the good news: it’s just fatty tissue. This boy has taken me through such an emotional rollercoaster, and all along, he’s been alright, and I couldn’t be happier. I know he won’t live forever, and I’ll cross that rainbow bridge when we get there. But for now, I’m going to enjoy the time I have left him. I’m going to take pictures (even though he could care less for the camera), and I’m going to take him for long walks and give him all the belly rubs I can muster. And I’m going to hope that when his time does come, he’ll know that his momma loved him from the beginning.