Thank you for reading this

Melvis Ketchup, cuddling in the car with me before dropping him off with his new owners.

Dear Melvis Ketchup,

I just got back from dropping you off in Long Island (well, technically in Queens but you don’t really know the difference, as you’re a dog) with a lovely, young couple who have come around, decided they love you, and that they want to be your owners forever. I am sad that you aren’t here with me, cuddling on the couch, with your head on my lap while I type like you like to do and I hope that your little dog brain will one day forget all about your time here with us but I know right now you must be a little bit confused and sad, as I know how much you loved us. I saw how much you tried in your month here to be the best dog you could be and how you really worked it to make us love you. And, I’m happy to report, it worked! We do love you, so much,  but all the love in the world can’t look over the fact we live in an 800-square-foot apartment and it just wasn’t fair for a pup with your kind of energy to keep you cooped up day after day with two absentee owners. You deserved more. Your whole life, you’ve deserved more than what has been given to you. But you’ve never complained, you’ve always loved and, in return for your love, have been abandoned and given away. I’m sorry we contributed to that cycle but this is the last time, I promise.

I remember when we rescued from the pound, site unseen, due to an emotional e-mail from our old dog walkers. You followed Sam home, cold, abandoned, scared, cut up, no collar or ID on you and walked right into her apartment with her. She tried but you were a one-year-old pit bull with energy and not enough training (she had a cat you tried to catch, apparently and another one-eyed rescue dog she had to take care of). So off to the ACC you went, with the name of Ketchup. Nat and I had to commit some fraud and that’s how you got your name. When they wouldn’t surrender you to us due to a 3-day hold in case your parents came to get you (wasn’t going to happen, you were abandoned. In the middle of winter. By some asshole but an asshole who took the time to potty-train you and get you neutered so that’s something), we lied and said we were you parents. Sceptical, they asked ‘If that’s the case, what’s his “real’ name?’ there was a huge pause before Nat went “Melvin?” (Later, we decided Melvis was better; we hope you like your name that we gave you. I know we do.) After we walked through East New York to find a notary to stamp a letter we wrote saying you were ours, you were released, as happy as any dog I’ve ever seen to get out of that place I’ve named Canine Vietnam.

You were a very, very, very lucky dog. While we were trying to get you, we saw no less than 11 dogs, most of them pets, being surrendered to the ACC because, well, I don’t really know why. People are irresponsible assholes, basically.

And so you came to live with us. And in that time, you quickly bonded with us while I quickly figured out that getting a pit adopted in New York City no easy feat as there are thousands of Melvises out there, and not a lot of people who care. And, I’m not going to lie, I was kind of freaked out. You had so much energy. We had an old dog before you who hardly ever got up, let alone could jump up or run around or take leaping bounds. It took some getting used to. But everytime I would get upset that due to career malasie, sadness over our old dog passing, and a bleeding heart, I might have acted too rashly in rescuing you, Nat would be so nice and comforting saying, “Hey, it’s okay. We have a nice, cool dog that we get to hang out with. Things could be worse.” And, indeed, he was right. After a week when we got used to each other (and realized that if we played fetch with you before bed, you’d calm right down; you just needed some exercise, a concept we were unfamiliar with), it was awesome. It was so nice having a little puppy follow me around, well, like a little puppy dog. To have someone Beyond Excited to see me when I came home from work, and a dog who liked to cuddle in the morning and sleep in when we were hungover. It was SO HARD to give you up. Please know that.

But I think the thing I have to thank you about the most is that you’ve totally changed my thinking of pit bulls. I’ll admit, before I met you, I didn’t like them. I was always kind of scared of the breed. I felt they were, well, ugly dogs who would kill you the moment they had the chance. But that’s so not the case. You guys are the most loving breed I’ve ever met. I’ve NEVER met a dog who was more loyal or sweet as you were. And I even saw you get into a huge scuffle in the dog park one morning and you didn’t even fight back. So, good for you, Melvis, keep up the good work.

Well, I’ve typed much more than I thought I would. I just wanted to write this down so we can remember you. We love you very much, MK. And we hope we get to see you soon.

You’re such a good boy.

Love,

Dorothy and Nat, the two very tall, very fun people who saved your little doggie life, and are better people for doing so.