Britt Lawrence

Britt Lawrence

Two years ago, last month marked the VERY best and most memorable day of my life. On March 8, 2020, Chewy the Pomeranian officially joined his forever family. Yes! It is hard to believe that it is Chewy’s second forever family anniversary. It seems like just yesterday. When he arrived, Chewy was 1.7 lbs. and 13 weeks old.

Cut to March 2022, and Chewy is 5.5 lbs. of furry Pomeranian fury. The memory of Chewy’s arrival is a blissful haze that came on the heels of an agonizing 2-day wait. Those days were longer than almost any others to that point. It was the fruition of a dream since childhood. I had always wanted a dog.

At 30, this dream became a reality with a little puppy that was better than his family could have ever imagined. While the decades slowly went by, the decision to finally take the puppy plunge happened in a practical whirlwind. My Dad paused our usual round of Netflix binge-watching (“El Dragon”) and found a Pomeranian with a courageous heart and abominable spirit. Dad would then utter the now-infamous family phrase upon seeing him:

“What about Chewy?”

The minute I saw Chewy, I truly loved him. I never felt that way about anyone or anything in my entire life. Good vibes? Yes. All-out love? Not until I saw the Chew. When I finally laid eyes on Chewy in person, the unexpected happened. I grew to love him even more, and that love has grown deeper with every passing day.

When Chewy joined his forever family, yours truly was broken: physically and emotionally. Life had shattered my heart into tiny pieces. Neverthless, it meant pretending those fragments were somehow glued together. They were not. The truth was a fragile balance of faking the smiles that Taylor Swift sings about so poignantly and privately feeling so down that tears never came.

@chewythetoppom Which picture of Chewy 📸 do you love 💖 the most? #dogsoftiktokviral #foryou #fypシ PS: Chewy is a huge #taylorswift ♬ Never Grow Up - Taylor Swift

It meant pretending a tide existed when reality should have shown a person entirely run aground. A broken heart marred by hurt saw its pieces begin to get put back together two years ago, and not by human hands. That feat was performed by the tiny paws of a confused and scared puppy that did not know his forever family from Adam when he first arrived.

I feared that all of the rejection I had experienced would be shared by Chewy. What if he did not like me? Or not want to love me either? Would (or could) he learn to care? My heart raced with those mighty anxieties. The first night he was with us, Chewy was given a T-shirt with my scent to sleep with to help with bonding.

In a blissful daze I held him in my arms until having to go to bed.

The next night is when things really began to shift. Chewy laid in my arms like a baby on his back with his head sweetly nestled in the crook of my arm. He slept, opening his eyes periodically. It soon became clear that he was looking to see if I was still there. When he still saw me, he closed his eyes and dozed back to sleep.

He did this over and over again until a gentle sigh signaled that Chewy was content with the answer his eyes were giving him. His mom was too. In two days, Chewy had single-pawedly drawn a heart back together again, like the ending scene of “Iron Giant” when a certain character slowly finds themselves reconnecting one little piece at a time. 

Two years later, my physical health has not improved greatly, but my mental health has, thanks to the one and only Chewy Houdini. (Houdini is his middle name. 😉) Unfortunately, Chewy has not had an easy two years. (Stay tuned for more on that on his website.) Chewy’s own health has incurred obstacles and scary struggles. 

We have weathered many storms in our two years together and come through the other side - stronger together. Chewy is a warrior in every way, and he encourages those around him to fight with his brave spirit. He has dried countless tears, and had his paw held through tough times. 

The freeflow of emotion has been intense. 

I have worked to keep my emotions in check throughout my life, avoiding crying in front of immediate family, let alone strangers. Not any more. I have shed more public tears in the past two years than in ten years, including in the middle of PetSmart. Chewy made that fountain of emotion possible. He means too much to try to “play it cool.”

Chewy gives his family a reason to keep going every day. I love him more than life itself, and he loves his whole pack without restraint. When heartbreaks have happened since he arrived, spirits have only been able to dip so low. Life is so sweet with Chewy. There is no room for sour feelings. 

After all, I have been blessed for some entirely unexplainable reason with a little dog that I, in no way, feel worthy of having in my life. This means trying to be the Pom mom he deserves every day with the hope of giving him back the joy he so readily gives to his family. 

When Chewy playfully barks, it is truly music to our ears. And yes. Chewy was worth the wait 30-something year wait. Without it, we may not have gotten Chewy, and the road that led us to him was worth every U-turn. 💖🐾