Finding my Champ: How a Shelter Dog Saved My Life and Gave me Purpose

“He doesn’t look like a Sam,” I told my mom. “He looks more like a… Champ.”

And at the sound of me saying his name just once, Champ ran to me, sat down, and looked straight up at me. I swear to God he had hearts in his eyes—or maybe that was me. And that was the start of our life together.

I never had dogs growing up, so the decision to adopt was somewhat impulsive, if I’m being honest. I was single, living alone, and going through a fairly severe depression. While it was not my first rodeo with mental health struggles, it was my first time being on my own, and the loneliness was palpable. My older brother had taken in a dog a few years before, and I could see firsthand how powerful the human-dog bond truly is.

So, I began perusing adoptable dog sites for what could be my new companion. My hope was to adopt a male dog that I could name Sam after my late brother. I noticed an older brown mutt on the euthanasia list at the county shelter. He seemed lonely and afraid, much like myself at the time, so the next day, my mom and I went to meet him.

Opening the door to the wing of 100 barking dogs was a feeling I had never experienced. The mix of fear, suffering, and hope was enough to make my stomach turn, and my eyes tear up. This was my first experience with a large municipal shelter, and it slapped me right in the face. Luckily, the dog I wanted to meet was close to the door, so the fantastic volunteer grabbed him for us, and we all went out to the yard to say hello.

Looking back, I know the dog was too shut down to interact. When the volunteer left, he sat and watched her instead of engaging with us. We gave him some time, but he didn’t come around to the idea of being part of the family. I couldn’t help but feel rejected, but I know now that he was only responding to his incredibly stressful circumstances. I still think about him to this day, and I hope a more experienced adopter knew what he needed and gave him a home.

Heading back into the loud, crowded, heartbreaking shelter wing, I began to cry. Pleading eyes behind chain link fence doors, all asking for attention, affection, and a potty break, made me feel completely hopeless. As I was about to leave, our volunteer helper recommended I meet one more dog. She walked us to the kennel of a young male dog named “Smudge.” He sat at the door, wide-eyed and worried, with a large scab on his nose.

“He has been trying to escape his kennel since he got here a month ago,” the volunteer explained.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to tell this dog that everything would be okay—that he would find a loving home that he wouldn’t want to escape from. The volunteer removed him from the kennel, and we began the meet-and-greet process once again.

Smudge was severely underweight and nervous, but grateful to leave his kennel. He pulled like a tiny freight train towards the play yard, and initially spent some time sniffing the grass; he even ran back and forth a few times. He was across the yard minding his own business when I mentioned to my mom that he looked like a Champ, and that’s when everything in my existence culminated to this singular point in my life. Hearing his name must have felt like coming home to Champ, because the next day, that’s precisely what he did.

There’s an old photo of the drive home. My brother snapped it as he was driving and Champ and I sat together in the back seat. I was on one side of the car, and he was splayed across the rest of the bench seat, head in my lap, looking straight up at me. We both knew that what we found was irreplaceable; what we found was true love.

From that day forward, Champ changed my life in more ways than I’ll ever begin to count. Champ is the reason I advocate for dogs like I do. Champ is the reason I teach yoga and have spent countless years healing. He showed me just how loveable I am, even in my messiest moments. To be honest, Champ is the reason I am still alive. Without the privilege of caring for him for nearly ten years, I would have been without purpose. Champ gave me a reason to stay; I will forever be grateful for that.