Resilience From My Rescue Dog
Season three of The Baroo is finally here after a longer than expected hiatus! I'm dedicating this season to the human-dog bond — in honor of Chance, my scruffy almost-18-year-old rescue who basically ran my life (in the best way) for almost two decades.
This is our story. And looking back, what stands out to me isn't just the love or the loyalty — though, obviously, those too. It's resilience. Just showing up, day after day, soft-hearted, even when everything hurts.
Before Chance
When Chance came into my life I was 33, waiting tables, running on fumes. Panic attacks, chronic pain, exhaustion — the aftermath of some bad decisions and a super toxic situationship. My body was basically screaming "something has to change," and I have no idea what that something was. My friend suggested I get a dog. I had always loved dogs, and my mother always said I had a special bond with our tiny poodle growing up.
A few weeks later I wandered into an outdoor adoption event in Santa Monica and there he is: Chance (then Waldo, as the rescue had named him). Nine months old, 42 pounds, scruffy white fur, pink around his eyes and nose, still tripping over his own paws. He was a unique goofball. When I took him for a walk around the block that day, he looked up at me with trust like he already knew I was his person and he was my pup.
As luck would have it, I only had $50 to my name at the time and the adoption fee was $200, but the woman running the rescue said just "pay me the rest when you can." That one moment of trust is what made it all possible.
Not long after, I lost my restaurant job — and oddly, I was relieved. The next day my dog care business was born, a business that ended up running for the next 16 plus years, with Chance leading the way.
What Chance Taught Me
Chance wasn't just a career pivot, he was a soul guide. He refused to be rushed, even when I was stressed or overwhelmed — which kept bringing me back to the present moment. He loved hanging out at Palisades Park, just watching the world go by, totally content doing nothing. No striving, no rushing. Just being.
He had his share of anxiety and stranger danger. So we spent years working through it together: patient training, positive reinforcement, slowly building his confidence. And as his confidence grew? So did mine.
Through his health scares, cancer, mobility issues, all of it — Chance just kept going, with a wagging tail and love.
And that's the most enduring thing he taught me: resilience isn't about gritting your teeth and powering through. It's staying soft while you keep moving forward.
You can listen to the full episode here or wherever you listen to podcasts:
