He Chose Me
Dog Mom Diaries · 83BLVD Pet Fashion House
I didn't go to the rescue to adopt a dog. I went to see how he would react. The Holy Spirit told me to go. So I went. And Gucci did the rest.
The Beginning
Growing Up, Animals Were My Safe Place
I grew up as the black sheep of my family. You know what that does to a kid — the quiet ache of feeling like you don't quite belong, like you're always slightly outside the circle. I didn't have the language for it then, but I found my way to animals. Dogs especially. They didn't have conditions. They didn't have expectations. They just showed up — fully, every single time.
So it made sense that my first dog became everything to me. He was mine and I was his. And then in 2002, my ex took that from me. Gassed the line. Killed all my pets. Every single one.
That grief doesn't have a clean name. It's not just losing an animal — it's losing the version of yourself that felt safe. It's losing the one relationship where you were never too much or not enough. I shut that door completely. For over two decades, I kept it closed.
I didn't want another dog. I didn't want to love something that could be taken from me again. So I kept that door locked — for twenty years.
The Rescue
I Didn't Want Him. He Had Other Plans.
Honestly? I didn't even want Gucci when I walked into that rescue. He wasn't the color I had in mind. I didn't go in there with adoption on my heart. I went because something kept nudging me to go. I believe it was the Holy Spirit. So I went.
And the moment I picked him up, he laid his head right on my shoulder. Just like that. Like he'd been waiting. When I put him down, he stood up on his little legs and wrapped himself around one of mine — the way a toddler does when they want to be picked back up and they're not taking no for an answer.
He didn't choose the rescue workers. He didn't choose the other people in the room. He chose me. And something in me, something I had locked up tight since 2002 — cracked open.
Charles County Animal Care Center · November 27 · Gucci finds his forever home
That first night, I put him in a crate because that's what they told me to do. He didn't bark. He didn't scratch. He just stood there, perfectly still and stared at me. Never sat down. Never laid down. Just stood there and whimpered softly. Like he was saying, I didn't come all this way to sleep in a cage. I picked him up out of that crate, and he has been in my bed every single night since.
By the second night, he was sleeping on his back, legs in the air, completely unbothered. Like he had always lived here. Like this had always been home. He never grieved his old life. He walked in the door and went straight to my daughter and just loved all over her. It was a match made in heaven. And I knew — this was no accident.
Night two · Already home · Already unbothered
By the second night he was on his back, legs in the air. He never looked like he missed where he came from. He looked like he'd finally arrived.
The Lesson
We Are Each Other's Emotional Support
People say you rescue a dog. But I'm here to tell you, Gucci rescued me right back. Because I love him so fiercely that he has separation anxiety now. I can't go to the bathroom without him following me. I don't want to leave town without him. And honestly? I don't think that's a problem. I think that's what healing looks like sometimes, two souls who needed each other finding each other at exactly the right time.
Each other's emotional support · Always
The black sheep girl who found comfort in animals, then had that comfort violently taken, then spent two decades with that door closed, she finally opened it again. And a little Bichon Poo with his legs wrapped around her leg said, I got you.
There is something different about a rescue dog. I don't know how to scientifically explain it. But they love you differently. Like they know. Like somewhere in them they understand what it means to be unwanted, overlooked, unseen and when you show up and choose them anyway, they give you everything they have. Every. Single. Day.
Things Being a Dog Mom Has Taught Me
01 — Love doesn't always look like what you planned.
I didn't want him. Wrong color, wrong timing. But the Holy Spirit said go — and Gucci had already made his decision before I made mine.
02 — Healing has its own timeline.
It took me over twenty years to open my heart to a dog again after what I lost in 2002. There's no shame in that. Grief protects us until we're ready.
03 — Rescue goes both ways.
You think you're saving them. And you are. But they are simultaneously stitching something back together in you that you didn't even know was still torn.
04 — Belonging is felt, not explained.
Gucci walked into this house and never looked back. Some connections just know. You don't have to earn them. You just have to receive them.
05 — The black sheep always finds her pack.
I spent years feeling like I didn't belong anywhere. My dogs have never once made me feel that way. Sometimes your people have four legs and a heartbeat.
Final Word
If You're Thinking About a Rescue — Go.
I know the shelters can feel heavy. I know it's hard to walk past the ones you can't take home. But if you're even thinking about adding a dog to your life, please consider a rescue. Not because it makes you a good person, though it does. But because there is a dog in that building who has been waiting for exactly you. Who will lay their head on your shoulder. Who will wrap their legs around yours and refuse to let go.
And if you're anything like me, if you've been the black sheep, if you've had love taken from you, if you've kept a door closed for longer than you care to admit, a rescue dog might just be the one to nudge it back open.
Gucci didn't save my life in a dramatic way. He saved it in the quietest, most everyday way. By just being there. By choosing me in a room full of people. By sleeping on his back with his legs in the air and never once looking like he missed where he came from.
He chose me. And in doing so, he gave me permission to choose myself too.
— Ebony Alston · Founder, 83BLVD Pet Fashion House