Chapter One
It’s been ten years since I was released from prison. I’ve learned and done many things during that time, trying to lead a normal life. A famous Chilean author and politician, Fernando Flores, once wrote, “When I left prison, I had to figure out how to embrace my past.” I was having a really difficult time with this until, one day, something happened that changed everything for me. I’m now a true believer that everything happens for a reason.
On May 22, 2007, my wife and I were on our way to a shopping mall when we started to argue about a vacation in Florida that she’d already booked. We’d just purchased a new home, and I had a part-time job as a computer instructor that didn’t pay very well. Spending money on a trip and new clothes to wear on vacation—which was the reason for the trip to the mall—wasn’t in our best interest at the time. However, she was on a mission to do what many women do: blow the budget on an expensive fashion statement.
During this period, my wife was the moneymaker in the family. I was very proud of her, but my ego was crushed by the fact that my income was lower than hers. Most of our arguments were triggered by my efforts to preserve what was left of that ego. When we arrived at the mall and got out of the car, I refused to go with her to any stores. “When you’re done spending our money on crap you’re not going to wear, call me on my cell phone,” I said. She headed for Macy’s, where I knew she was going to blow our budget on some imported clothes, and I walked off in the other direction with empty pockets.
I felt we were financially struggling, and married couples argue about finances all the time. In no way did it mean we weren’t happy with each other. She’ll always be the love of my life.
Left alone while my wife was shopping, I ended up making a life-changing decision—one I’d never regret. I had the revelation that I was at this particular mall for a reason. New Jersey has dozens of malls, so why did we come to this one, and why on that day?
An hour into my journey at the mall, I came across a small crowd in front of a store window. I heard children laughing and saw adults smiling. I walked closer to the crowd to see what made them so cheerful, and there it was: a pet store as big as the American Kennel Club in New York. The crowd was looking at a bunch of playful puppies in a big display window. I decided to go into the store, just to look around and pass the time, since I knew my wife would be shopping for a while.
As I entered, an overwhelming sense of peace came over me. I felt as though I could let down my guard and enjoy the moment. It was clear that every single person in there had a good heart; no one had an ounce of malice. Everyone just wanted a puppy.
The puppies for sale were in small enclosures behind glass, and they were either sleeping or playing with each other. I strolled down an aisle and tapped on the glass of a few of the display cases. The puppies ignored me. It seemed they were accustomed to people rapping on their enclosures. According to the information on the glass, these were all purebred dogs, and I knew I couldn’t afford any of them, but it made me feel good just being around them.
I wanted to hold on to that positive feeling, even though I knew I had to leave soon. Then I noticed a scrawny boxer puppy out of the corner of my eye. I walked toward his enclosure, and he jumped up against the glass on his skinny hind legs, looking directly at me. He started to bark, jump, and lick the glass with excitement. His antics attracted the attention of a small girl standing next to me.
“Hey, mister,” she said, “I’ve been trying to get him to play all morning.” She then pointed her little finger at me and whispered, “He chooses you!” and ran off.
He chooses me? What does that even mean? I leaned toward the glass and said to my new friend, “I’m sorry, buddy. I think you got the wrong guy.”
He sat down in the corner of his enclosure and stared at me. I proceeded toward the exit, and every time I turned around, he was still looking at me. He had an expression of betrayal in his eyes that I’d seen many times before.
As I left the store, I took one last look through the window at the puppy who’d “chosen” me. Why would anyone choose me? I thought. I was born and raised in poverty in the worst parts of New York City. I’d been in trouble so many times in so many different ways with the worst kind of people that it was amazing I was still alive. I fit the pattern of so many others who came from tough circumstances and were born with a blueprint for failure. Many people considered me to be damaged goods. If it weren’t for the love and support of my wife, who knew where I would’ve ended up?
Then it struck me. I stopped at the store window and gazed in at this little puppy. I realized how much we had in common. He was most likely the ugliest dog in the litter. His tail was too short, and he had a crooked nose and protruding snaggletooth. Plus, he seemed to have a bad attitude, despite his reaction to me. He was damaged goods, just like me. He was perfect!
I couldn’t walk away, so I sat on a bench directly outside the store, and thoughts of my own imperfect beginnings raced through my head. When I was a child, I tried to wrench myself out of bad neighborhoods in an attempt to move forward, but I never had the tools necessary to succeed. Like so many of us living in this atmosphere of chaos and desperation, I was overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness. Yes, I did see the light at the end of the tunnel several times, but prying myself away from the only world I knew was like trying to climb out of quicksand. The more I fought, the faster I sank.
This hadn’t been the case for the children I saw in front of me, who were laughing and pointing at the playful puppies. It put a smile on my face to know their parents had taken the time to bring them happiness and let them know they’d never be abandoned.
Without another thought, I got up and walked back into the store to look at the awkward little boxer pup. He was still sitting in the corner with that look of abandonment, despair, and hopelessness I knew so well. I muttered, “Not this time!”
As soon as the puppy saw me, he jumped up and started scratching the glass frantically. I took a closer look at him and noticed his thin frame and his brown-and-white coloring. A young store clerk approached me and said, “Good afternoon, sir. My name is Josh. I’ve never seen this little guy so excited. Would you like to hold him? And by the way, that’s his sister over there.” He pointed to an enclosure about twelve feet away. His sister was elegant and beautiful—definitely dog-show material.
I smiled at the ugly pup with his front paws on the glass before me, and then I looked at Josh. “You know what? I came back for him!”
Josh gave me a confused look, perhaps wondering why I’d turned down a Ferrari for a junkyard jalopy.
Then he led me through a doorway to an area behind the display cases and walked me to the enclosure where the boxer pup was. He was already waiting behind the metal grid, looking at me and panting.
“So let me get this straight. You want to see this dog?” asked Josh.
I nodded.
Within minutes, the puppy and I were inside a large pen, staring at each other. As I kneeled to pet him, he immediately went after the laces of my left shoe. He pulled and tugged at my laces like they were his last lifeline and his entire existence depended on them. I knew this feeling well.
I said to Josh, who was standing nearby, “Wrap him up! He’s coming home.”
I didn’t have the money to pay for the dog. My credit cards were maxed out, and I didn’t have a cent to my name. I went to the counter, and the clerk calculated the total for the pup, crate, food, toys, and fees. I pulled out the joint bank-account card that I shared with my wife and thought about the repercussions. I decided to put an end to our Florida-vacation dispute by spending our entire vacation budget on this new family member. I zoned out during most of the transaction until the clerk at the counter asked me cheerfully if I’d thought of a name for my new friend.
“Yep. His name is Guapo.”
She asked what that meant.
“It’s Spanish for ‘handsome.’”
She looked at Guapo and started giggling. “Don’t worry, sir; he’ll blossom.”
What was she talking about? He was already perfect in my mind. I was laughing as I pushed the cart carrying Guapo and his crate out of the store and into the parking lot. A clerk followed behind, carrying dog food and toys.
My wife eventually arrived at our old Jeep, her arms full of bags. She opened the passenger door, piled her bags onto the seat between us, sat down, and started telling me about what she’d just bought.
Guapo let out a tiny bark and a growl from the back seat.
My wife screamed and jumped out of the car. “There’s something back there!”
It was a mostly one-way argument during the entire trip home. I was silent and kept looking in the rearview mirror. Guapo, in the back seat, was trying to dig a hole in the upholstery. Within the span of a one-hour trip to his new home, the two-month-old pup destroyed the back-seat cushion.
At a stoplight, I dug into one of my wife’s shopping bags and pulled out an expensive shoe. I looked at the price tag and smiled in amusement. I knew right then and there I was keeping my new friend at any expense, no matter what. No way would he lose his home over a pair of expensive shoes that would be worn once and then stored in a closet, never to be seen again.
Because I deeply loved my wife, I rarely said no to anything she wanted. That day, however, I wanted something for me. Once she’d gone through all the emotions over the decision I’d made during her shopping spree, she reached the stage of acceptance.
We drove for a while in silence, and then she asked quietly, “How much?”
I dropped my head and replied, “We’re not going to Florida.”
She gently took my hand and said nothing else.
Once we got home, we had a civil discussion about how Guapo would be taken care of. My wife had always taken good care of me. She knew everything about my upbringing and my life, and she’d never held me accountable for any of it. I came into the marriage with a lot of personal baggage. Now, without discussing it with her, I’d added a new member to the family. Her reaction and concerns were legitimate.
I’d always felt guilty because I believed my circumstances had held her back, and I tried desperately not to burden her with my worries. But the distant look in my eyes always gave me away. We sat next to one another on the couch as we watched Guapo sniff around the living room, and she stroked my face with her hand. I looked at her, and she gave me the sweetest smile, as though she knew what I was thinking.
I got up from my chair and picked up Guapo to prepare him for his first walk in the park. I held him up in front of me. He wagged his short tail and looked at me with his big brown eyes. I smiled as I held him up high, admiring my new buddy. “You little bastard,” I whispered. “You tricked me into bringing you home.”
In response, he peed on the front of my shirt. My wife burst out laughing.
