What am I doing for the world? What impact am I making?
As I answered myself, “not enough,” these two questions changed the course of my life forever. My pit bull mix Rocky was the sole reason I had my Ghandi-esque moment, and I’m so thankful for it.
Rocky was the ‘typical’ dog – pit bull and something else (he had chocolate lab as his other half) – you see in shelters everywhere. In my case, it was the ASPCA in Boston. It was time to get a dog, since I was moving off campus after my sophomore year in college, and adoption was the only option for me. I remember meeting him for the first time, and thought he looked so interesting because his green eyes were so mesmerizing.
I decided quickly he was the dog for me. And so, the journey began.
His first 5 years were an amazing experience. Our bond grew every day, and he grounded me while many of my other friends didn’t have a care in the world. I had never felt more responsibility for another living thing more than I did for Rocky.
Rocky was a physical specimen. It seemed every time I weighed him it was the same – 73.4 pounds. In the sunlight, the striations in his leg muscles were so pronounced he looked like a doggy bodybuilder.
I used to joke he was the “Roy Jones” of dogs (Roy Jones was the best boxer pound-for-pound at the time). He was just the most handsome, breathtaking dog. Well, at least to me.
In April 2005, I remember while I was petting him I felt that his glands in his neck felt swollen. I immediately thought he just had an infection, so I brought him into the vet.
“It could be an infection, best-case, and worst-case, it could be cancer.”
Under the microscope they saw no cancer cells, so they sent him home with 2 weeks of antibiotics, and I thought, that was that.
After two weeks, the glands were still swollen, and then I started to become very concerned.
The vet decided to do a biopsy to make sure, and I waited for a phone call for the results. As the phone rang and I knew it was the vet, my whole body felt like it seized up.
“The results came in and unfortunately, Rocky has lymphoma” said the voice on the other end.
I immediately dropped to my knees and felt an uncontrollable wave of emotion. I couldn’t speak or move. I believe I thought it was just—unbelievable.
Given my financial situation at the time, most people thought there was no way I could go through with a chemotherapy regimen, since it would practically bankrupt me. That was never a thought for me. The only thing I cared about was what was best for Rocky. After speaking with the vet and an oncologist, we all decided it was best to do the chemo, and go from there.
The next 2 years and 8 months made me ask those aforementioned questions that I started this story with, and although it was the toughest time in my life, I’m grateful Rocky fought so valiantly and put such perspective into my life.
He would go through 45-minute, slow-drip IV chemo treatments, get out of the vet’s office, and if he could talk, he would be saying, “Ok, Dad, can we go run around now?”
This was coinciding with the horrible situation in which Michael Vick, the star quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons at the time, was found to be fighting pit bull type dogs at his compound in Virginia.
Here was my dog fighting so hard for his one life, and on the opposite end of the spectrum was Michael Vick and his cronies, who were drowning and electrocuting dogs because they didn’t fight well enough. From then on, I knew the plight of pit bulls would be a cause I would take up for the rest of my life.
Another thing that resonated with me was the hypothetical of being a single parent who needed to put two teenagers through college, and couldn’t mortgage their future on trying to save their dog, or at least, prolong his life. It was then that I knew what the end game was for me.
You see, I had a successful career going as an Associate Producer at ESPN. If I wanted to do that for the rest of my life, I definitely could make a great living. But that was no longer a fulfilling thought.
What was fulfilling was thinking about if I opened a non-profit clinic, where people could bring their pets with long-term illnesses and cancer and get care they needed, regardless of their financial constraints.
Ultimately, I just want what Rocky had – a chance to live a prolonged, happy life with his loved ones – for all pets. This is a pie-in-the-sky, utopian goal, no doubt, and I knew I needed to get into the animal industry.
That is what led me to getting certified as a dog trainer and fully immersed in this wonderful arena.
In coming articles, I will discuss the merits of positive-based, force-free training, as well as answer any and all questions. This is just the story of how the journey began. You are all part of that journey with me, and I couldn’t be more excited for what is to come.
I had to put Rocky to sleep on February 5, 2008. His life, not death, is what fuels me. All those amazing memories are what help cement my motivation for trying to make more of an impact, and a real difference.
Thank you for letting me share my story with you.
