WHEN LOVE IS DESTINY—DON’T FIGHT IT
(Or … How Julio and Randy came to live on the French Riviera) 

By
Susan Dane

I have come to realize that life takes up roughly 24 hours a day. 

It doesn’t much matter which life you are living—every life takes up the exact same amount of time. 

So it boils down to what you want to fill up those 24 hours a day with. 

As a writer, I have spent years and years organizing my life so that I would have time to get to the “white page.”   I have spent the last five years simplifying almost every aspect of my life possible: smaller apartment, fewer responsibilities, less housework, my son through college--always with one single objective—to find the time to write.   Last September, I made a radical move to  Southern France, where I share a small sunny studio with Joey (a long-legged, 3 pound Chihuahua who closely resembles a baby kangaroo—hence her name.)  Joey is absolutely the brightest, easiest, most undemanding little animal in existence.  She adores everyone—babies, old people, strangers—and everyone adores her. 

Our little apartment is only 3 blocks to the wide, palm-lined promenade and beautiful Mediterranean, barely a block to markets and a drugstore, walking distance to movie theatres and cafes—in short, we live about as simple a life as one can get nowadays.  I often carry Joey in a small shoulder bag, and she is so quiet and unobtrusive I can take here everywhere.  Even to the movies.  In fact, she loves the movies!

So why exactly did I decide about a year ago that I wanted a second dog?

Well, of course part of me is still wondering.  Then again, there is such a thing as destiny.  If yours includes a dog—or another dog--I strongly suggest you don’t fight it.

Joey—or Jo-Jo as she is usually called—was something of a rescue pup.  A one-pound wonder whose owner had dropped her, broken her leg and then wouldn’t pay to have it set.  One thing I was sure of at the time is that my life had no room for a dog.  (Editor’s  Note: So obviously I had to get a new life!)

Quite a few years ago, I attended a master class for actors where Frank Langela was speaking.  All the students were serious actors and very interested to hear what Mr. Langela had to share.  They wanted to be good actors, successful actors, respected and capable of rendering life as it is.  They wanted to know about his technique, his ideas on building a character, motivation, objective—all big acting words.  In short, they wanted to know “his secret.”

I remember Mr. Langela’s answer because it was so surprising and so wonderful.

In essence (I am paraphrasing according to memory) he said, “Don’t be afraid to complicate your life.  Fill it up with kids and dogs and rabbits and other people, with other creature’s needs and pains and struggles and loves and joys.  Great acting is not some magic technique.  You can’t separate art from living.  A full life, lived fully, will teach you everything you need to know about art and drama.”

His words have always echoed in my mind. 

Still, you can imagine what everyone’s response was when I started telling them I was thinking about getting a second Chihuahua:  A second dog?  You aren’t settled, you don’t own your own home, you just moved to France, and you don’t have a secure job.  Ironically, most of this was coming from family members whose houses are filled with rescued animals and adopted kids!  

Still, they had a good point--until I would weigh it against the wisdom in Mr. Langela’s counsel to young actors.   Soon, every time someone would say, “Isn’t a second dog going to complicate your life?”  I would answer without hesitation: ABSOLUTELY!

Enter Stage left: Julio

Also known as: Juli the Looley, Juli the Madman, Juli the Mexican Fruitcake,  Juli the French Clown, and always--Julio le Beau.

My reason for choosing a Chihuahua was simple.  Jo-Jo had convinced me that they were the easiest, smartest and most portable animals in the world.   And portable is definitely a major criteria for me as I want the freedom to bring them with me to the States in the plane cabin. 

The airlines have always been relatively strict about pets in the cabin.  But since the September 11^th attacks, rules have become more stringent.  Some airlines allow no pets in the cabin on transatlantic flights and most will allow no more than three.  For some reason, they also insist that these three pets must be carried by three different people.

Reasoning with the airlines doesn’t work.  I have tried to suggest that very few Chihuahuas have ever been known to wear shoe bombs because their shoes are so small as to create insignificant damage, and that although some have been known to nip at nasty people, few have ever actually been considered a “terrorist threat.”

Still, we can’t be too careful these days regarding dogs in cabins.

So—my only real option was 1) a Chihuahua,  2) a small Chihuahua, and 3) Delta Airlines.  Delta would allow two pets to be carried by the same person if the pets were (and this is the truth) of the same race and would both fit in the same bag, under the same seat.

Knowing how many animals are destroyed every year in the States, and knowing full well that there are a slew of Chihuahuas needing rescue, it never occurred to me to go to a breeder.   Instead, I began searching the internet.  If you have not yet done this, and if you happen to find the world news in general so happy and uplifting that you need a dose of reality now and then, spend some time visiting animal rescue sites.

Within an hour, if you have any heart at all, you will surely want to abandon your day job and open up a full-time refuge center.  And you will definitely think even less of the human race in general than you already do.

But what I mostly found left me sad in a different way. 

Almost every site insisted they would only adopt out to a very limited area within their own rescue “reach.”  Most of them carried big warning signs—“Don’t even consider contacting us if you are not in this adopting area.”  Of course I understood why this was.  They wanted to be careful, be able to check on the animals, stay in touch with them etc.

Still for me, now living in France, the prospects seemed slim of convincing anyone to consider me as a potential owner.  And believe me, I checked a lot of sites!

I decided there might, however be some chance in Atlanta.  I have a sister in Atlanta who would speak well for our family’s animal rescue blood-line.  She has three rescued dogs, and 11 rescued cats.  All of them are cared for impeccably, and she would like to open a refuge center herself one day.

I figured if she vouched for me, I might stand a chance.  Thus I wrote to one site in the Atlanta area explaining my unusual circumstances.  And it was through this site that I was led to Stacy Hall and SHHSPVAR.

I should mention that by this time, Jo-Jo the Wonder Dog, (see photo)  was quite well known in the neighborhood for (and I say this in all due modesty) being the most INCREDIBLE DOG ON THE ENTIRE EUROPEAN CONTINENT.  This is the absolute and surprising truth.  Chihuahuas are quite rare in France and many people talked to me about “where did I get her.”

One gentleman was named Bernard.  He owned a print and photocopy shop quite near my apartment and in speaking with him I told him I was going to the States soon and might be bringing back another Chihuahua for myself.  Knowing that Delta would allow me to bring two at a time, I asked him if he would consider a rescue pup.  Bernard is a really special person, who so wanted a Chihuahua, (thinking he would get a 3 lb. wonder like Jo) and signed on right away.

So, now, I was in communication with Stacy regarding not one, but two Chi's.

The rest is history.  She sent me photos of this adorable fawn colored Chi, named Julio, with huge dewy brown eyes, and a face so sweet it would melt sherbet.  It was obvious that he shared a temperament just like Jo-Jo and that they would get along perfectly.  (So much for photos.)

Regarding Bernard, Stacy shared a photo of a dear little black and tan Chi who was “slightly larger” named Randy.  Although Randy was only six months old, he had a face that looked like he was at least four.  It read “old soul” and couldn’t help but melt your heart as it showed his enormous concern for all things serious, not to mention everything his short life had already witnessed and survived.

I showed Bernard Randy’s photo and it was love at first sight. I still remember his words:  “Is this my dog?”   I told him “Yes, but that if he didn’t want the dog we would probably be able to find him another one.”  As I was trying to explain that Randy was going to be considerably bigger than Jo-Jo, Bernard was already at one of his photocopiers, enlarging the colored photo to placemat size, laminating it and hanging it over his desk.   An hour later when I stopped back, Randy had become the screen saver on his computer.  I took these gestures to be a good sign.

Although Randy is the only one of these three—Jo, Juli, and himself—with papers to prove his pedigree, today Randy actually bears a strong resemblance to a nine pound German Shepherd.  But since (according to Bernard) he too has been voted the MOST INCREDIBLE DOG ON THE EUROPEAN CONTINENT—no one seems to care.  (Jo-Jo is however asking for a recount on the ballot.)

So the double international adoption looked like it was well underway.

Stacy didn’t hesitate to let me know that Julio was definitely more cautious with strangers than my description of Joey, and that Randy would most likely get a little bigger, but everything just seemed to fit, and with Delta on my side, I came to Atlanta to visit my family, eager to meet Stacy and return with a couple of Chihuahua pelts hanging from inside my trench coat.

I won’t discuss the fact that after an entire day waiting for me at the PetsMart Adoption center, Julio had had it.  He was in a bad mood and his first response to his new “mother” was to bite her.  This did not bode well for his character recommendation, and I told Stacy that I definitely needed the freedom to bring him back if I felt uneasy with him.

This was the best part about working with Stacy.  Although we had had quite a few emails by this time between us, she still had never met me in person.  And she treated me as she would any new adoptee, wanting to get to know me as best she could and wanting to make sure I ended up with the right dog.

But since she had personally fostered Juli for nearly four months, she had a strong intuitive sense that we would be a good match.  In fact, he was so adorable, that she had taken his photo off the website because she had been inundated with requests, and none of them felt right to her. 

Well, of course, it might have been pure intuition.  Or it might have been the fact that I came all the way from France to rescue a Chihuahua (and pay his airfare home); or it might have been Julio himself telling her that he had always had a hankering to live on “the Continent.”  This last possibility is perhaps the most reasonable as this dog is simply the most intelligent and communicative Chihuahua in the world.

Whatever informed her inspiration, I have to say it was right on.

Julio is absolutely perfect for us.  Which is not to say he is absolutely perfect!   He is an absolute character, who has brought so much life and love into our home that there is no question it was a perfect match.

I have never met a dog who had a genuine sense of humor—but this is the one.  I couldn’t possibly relate all his antics, or how much love is stuffed into his chunky little 4 pound body, or how smart he is or even how impossible he is at times.  He’s just Juli.  And he’s mine.  And I love him and I have no regrets.  And his good qualities far outweigh any complications he might have brought with him.

First of all, Joey was sleeping almost all of the time before Julio arrived, something which is now out of the question, as Juli leaves her little peace. 

Secondly, Juli provides something for her to boss around, which in spite of his rambunctious character he allows her to do to him without mercy. 

Thirdly, I really do feel half as guilty when I have to leave them home, as I know they have each other. 

And fourthly, he has taught Jo-Jo how to make her squeaky toys squeek.  This alone wins him a place of respect in our home not to mention all of Southern France.   But there are other qualities too.

I won’t go into them all—as this letter has gone on much longer than I ever intended.   As a matter of fact, Juli has just told me that the whole story is incredibly boring until we got to the part about him.

This is what I am telling you about this dog.  He is so amazingly communicative and smart that he has actually begun sending his own personal journal entries home to Stacy and her friends regarding his life and antics on the French Riviera.  Since I know you are dying for more details, I will encourage him to send a new installment soon.   He’s actually thinking about writing a book!

Until then I hope you will continue to support SHHSPVAR or the animal rescue group of your choice.  And if you can’t take a “second dog” right now, you can always be a guardian angel and help with even a small financial donation every month.  A dinner at a fast food restaurant (something we are all guilty of) would easily feed a dog for a week.  A dinner at a half-way decent restaurant would easily cover an animal for a month.

Even more, our support—in whatever way we each can offer it—helps give people like Stacy Hall just a little more stamina and strength of heart to keep going to those shelters and bringing home priceless creatures like Julio le Beau.

Where would Juli be without Stacy?  Well, I’m not at liberty to discuss that as he is curled up on my lap as I write this, with his head on my keyboard, editing it as I go, and the mere thought of his first six months before Stacy rescued him is so upsetting he refuses to discuss it.

But the equally big question is “Where would I be without Stacy …and Julio?   Still searching the internet trying to convince someone to give a long-distance adoption a chance.