In early 1997, I brought home a beagle mix named Bernard though my family insisted on calling him Nardy. He was the first dog I ever truly raised. I trained him, cared for him, and he became my best buddy.
When life changed, we moved in with my sister, and he grew close to my family. I promised him we’d always stay together.
But in 1999, everything fell apart. I couldn’t find a place that would allow dogs, and I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life—I surrendered him to a shelter so he could have a better chance than struggling with me.
Thankfully, a good friend adopted him the very next day. But it still broke my heart, and that feeling never fully left me.
Years later, I bonded deeply with another dog, Izzi, who belonged to a friend. Once again, I felt that connection… and once again, I had to walk away when I moved out.
Today, I could have a dog. Where I live and where I’m going pets are allowed.
But I don’t.
Because having a pet isn’t just about love it’s about stability, commitment, and knowing you can give them a forever home.
I love dogs. Always will.
But until I know, without a doubt, I can give one a life where they never have to be given up… I choose not to have one.
Instead, I support local shelters when I can.
Because loving an animal means thinking about what’s best for them not just what we want.
