Tango — The Gentle Giant Who Taught Me Devotion

In the summer of 2013, we decided Pablo needed a companion — something big and loving, not another small dog to compete with his ego. At the shelter, I found him in a quiet corner: a big orange dog being comforted by one of the staff. He'd been returned once already. Something about him just warmed my heart.

We introduced him to Pablo carefully, half-expecting trouble. They looked at each other, walked away, and that was it. The day I brought him home, he couldn't quite manage the jump into my SUV, so I lifted all 75 pounds of him myself. That was the first of many lifts.

Tango turned out to have epilepsy — something we didn't know until those first frightening nights. But through it all, he stayed remarkably gentle. Other dogs in the neighborhood would challenge him, and he never took the bait. He just stayed calm, reserved, unbothered. Somehow, his steadiness helped settle my own anxiety more than I ever expected from a dog.

As he aged, hip dysplasia set into all four legs. Walking became harder, then nearly impossible. I bought an over-the-shoulder lift so he could still get to the groomer, still go outside, still have some semblance of a normal life. We have stairs in our house, and I carried him up and down them, day after day, because I wasn't ready to let his world get smaller than it had to.

That's the thing about Tango — he never asked for help. I just gave it, because that's what loving an aging dog looks like sometimes. Not grand gestures. Just lifting them, literally and otherwise, for as long as you can.

That's what Pup Ally is about, too — showing up for the unglamorous parts of senior dog care, the lifting and carrying and quiet patience, because that's where the real love lives.

— Nanette 🐾