Ollie: Teach Me to Love

[How my Dog has taught me unconditional love, self-worth, and how to love myself]

Like a foreign spy fearlessly collecting precious recon behind enemy lines, I discreetly look through the cracked blinds of my apartment window hoping to catch a glimpse of who my new companion, Ollie, really is when I am away.

[Ollie] January 16th 2024

As I suspected, to no surprise of my own, Ollie, all 17 pounds of him was in rare form, letting his true colors shine brighter than Halie's comet on Christmas eve. Trying my best not to blow my cover due to the insatiable urge to belly laugh, my sweet new friend had managed to turn my living room into a winter wonderland of couch cushion foam and pillow cotton, while simultaneously rolling on the ground wrestling with my new kitchen broom like two UFC fighters in a title fight.

Ollie came into my life when he was a few months old. Someone found him abandoned in their apartment building, wandering for days and scavenging for food. After attempting to find his owner, they decided to place an adoption ad online, which is where I came into the picture.

At the time, I was in the ever so familiar, absolute throes of meth/heroin addiction, something that had become my only reason for living in life. I was lonely, depressed, and incredibly desperate for something to reassure me of my self worth, regardless of how much I hated myself. I was not capable of loving myself, nor was I willing to do any work to become capable of loving myself. So, like any accomplished addict, I decided, "Hey! Ill just take a hostage in life!" Because what's more healthy than refusing to work on oneself, and instead deciding to use someone or something to dump all my emotional baggage on. I wasn't exactly attracting too many women in my life at the time(I know how crazy right?), due to the obvious fact that I was fresh off the streets and had a propensity to spend all my time shooting poison into my veins, so the next best thing according to my completely stable mental state, was adopting a Dog. How sweet of me. I know, I was a swell guy!

Within minutes, I could clearly see that Ollie came from a very traumatic background. He wouldn't willingly let me pet him, nor would he stay close to me for longer than a few seconds. He would randomly shake as if he were having some kind of traumatic flashback, had accidents in the house on an hourly basis, and to top it all off- he had an owner who was just as "off the chain" as he was. In a dark, slightly humorous sense, we were perfect for each other. Trauma bonding, its a hell of an experience.

[Arts & Crafts] Ollie enjoyed while I was at the gym one day

Being that I couldn't even take care of myself in life, it was very obvious(to everyone but myself) that there was no way I could take care of a Dog, or any living creature for that fact. When you're a raging meth/heroin addict, normal everyday life consists of two things: 1. Getting High and 2. Walking to the dealers shady hotel and scoring more dope so you can get high again. It's a hell of a life let me tell you. Naturally, things like eating, hygiene, and sanity tend to go right out the window. To say I created the same traumatic environment for Ollie as he was used to, was a complete understatement. If anything it was worse because now he had a tangible someone in front of him who he sensed was supposed to take care of him yet he was ignored and neglected. Never once did I research how to raise him, nurture him, or how to connect with him. It was the same old status quo of Spencer's life, using someone or something to help me forget about how horrible a person I was, and how disgraceful my life had become.

When I moved from the essential trap house I was living at in Austin, I started to do some actual work on myself. Although it took me a couple months, I finally reached a point where I was no longer scared of dying, going to prison, or being homeless as a result of my addiction and life unmanageability. I had reached a point where the sole thing that scared me most was living until i'm 90 years old and waking up each day just as miserable as the day before. That scared the hell out of me. As far as "rock bottom" was concerned, this was the highest bottom I had ever had. I had a place to live, I had no legal issues, my family would still speak with me, and there was nothing "hanging over my head" like I had become so used to. I no longer had anything else to run from. I had no legitimate excuse to use as a reason to escape. It finally hit me- I get high in life because I am a drug addict, and that's what drug addicts do. Although an always convenient excuse at the time, I didn't get high because I was homeless and afraid, I didn't get high because I had a possible prison sentence hanging over my head, I got high because somewhere down the line I crossed over into full blown addiction, and I am an addict who has a lack of power. No human power, including my own, could restore me to sanity, which I became painfully aware of. This got my "ass in gear."

My therapist, God love her, used to listen to me bitch and moan about, "Well Ollie shit the floor again! Ollie had arts and crafts time with my carpet today. Ollie dug a literal hole in the wall as if he were the DEA searching for a brick of coke that I stashed." I swear, how dare Ollie act like a Dog! How dare he not know how to behave! Because after all, every Dog should be born with the innate understanding of how to operate in a human world, because that's obviously what's in their DNA right? Oh yes, my delusion was of EPIC proportions y'all. I'll never forget the day when my therapist simply said, "Have you ever considered that Ollie's behavior is just a reflection of your own emotions?" Ok, what the actual hell lady, I thought. How dare you suggest that to me, I'm the picture perfect example of health and wellness. "Its been proven that animals, especially Dogs, reflect our attitudes and moods," she said rather elegantly. "Have you considered nurturing him the next time he has night terrors, instead of yelling at him? What about speaking in a gentle, playful tone to him when he has an accident?" Hmm, I thought, that's actually not a bad idea. What a concept!

[Arts & Crafts] part two, another of Ollie's proud creations

So, this new proposed experiment was off and running. I remember the first time Ollie shit the floor when I came home from the gym. I walk in, he has that oh no Dad's pissed look on his face, he prepared for me to scream at him, and then I said in a calm gentle voice, "It's ok sweetie! It's ok babies! Daddy's not mad at you!" He looked at me like ok where is my Dad and what in the hell did you do with him? He slowly walked up to me, plopped down on the ground, rolled over, and asked me to rub his belly. Wow, maybe my therapist was right. Maybe I was previously a complete psycho in life(obvi bro). Just kidding, but she obviously knew what she was talking about, and for once in my life, I listened.

From there, Ollie and I would go on walks every night, same time, same place, something that I had neglected to do in the past. We would occasionally go to the Dog park where he would steal the tennis balls, and run faster than Usain Bolt at the Olympics. As time progressed, I noticed that Ollie would now greet me with excitement when I walked in the door. When I would lay on the couch, he would run up to me and stretch out his hand as if to give me a high five. Something was changing in Ollie(so I thought). I didn't know it just yet, but something was changing in me.

Fast forward a few months, Ollie was now sleeping with me in bed, licking my face whenever possible, and wagging his tail with jubilation every time I played with him. He not only had a sense of ease and calm about him he had a sense of security and confidence about him that was utterly non existent in the previous year. It was quite a transformation! It was amazing to see how much he had grown right before my eyes. But alas, one inconspicuous dreary day in October, my whole mindset, perception, and belief system of Ollie, as well as the world, would be radically changed forever.

[Emotional Support Animal] registration card for Ollie

A word to the wise, if you stick around in therapy long enough, you're going to find yourself at some point. It's like hanging out at a barber shop day in and day out. At some point, you're going to get a damn haircut. This day was no different, although the proverbial "haircut" I was about to receive would be quite drastic.

I'm telling my my therapist about how proud I was of Ollie's growth, how I can't believe how far he has come, as well as other cliche hallmark style remarks, when suddenly she looks at me with those comforting, "I'm about to say something that's going to make you uncomfortable as shit," eyes. "So Ollie had a lot of trauma right?" I nodded yes. "Ollie had an incredibly hard time trusting others right" Again, I nod. "Ollie didn't know his place in the world, and was surviving the best way he knew how right?" I nod, for the third, redundant time now. Pausing for dramatic effect, she looks at me with a gentle smile, "I know someone like that." My first thought was, because I'm a life long smart-ass, "Yeah my ex girlfriend, but ain't no damn nurturing gonna take place with-" Boom. I immediately knew what she was saying. Without hesitation, as if my soul was desperately, patiently waiting for this moment when I would make the connection between my intellect and heart, I broke down. I sobbed, something I had not done in years. I cried and cried and cried. I cried like a child who lost his Mother. I cried tears of anger, rage, hate, sadness, grief, joy, and freedom. It finally made sense. God put Ollie in my life to teach me how to nurture myself. When I wasn't capable of consciously knowing how to nurture the child in me, God used Ollie to play the role of my inner child. I had inadvertently been learning how to affirm, provide, and comfort my own self all along, something I never knew how to do. The whole time I thought I was rescuing Ollie, but, insert cliche hallmark caption, Ollie was the one rescuing me. Who would have thought.

God met me on my playing field, the only playing field I was currently capable of playing on, and used what I had around me, to help me find myself. Ollie is much more than just "my Dog." Ollie is my best friend, my mentor, my registered emotional support animal, and ultimately, my real life example of just how far someone CAN come, despite WHERE they come from.