NEVER SAY NEVER

“I would never walk the street with a Poodle.”

I was twelve when my parents finally agreed to get me a dog. I could choose between a Schnauzer and a Poodle since neither breed sheds. In my twelve-year-old brain, Poodles were born with those fluffy pompoms all over their bodies—something I couldn’t imagine myself walking down the street with. My dog knowledge back then came mostly from Bruce Fogle’s book My Dog, which I read almost daily, imagining what if… In that book, the Poodle looked exactly like my pompom nightmare.

Back then, dogs weren’t as common as they are today, at least in my small town. Most were kept in gardens, pens, or—especially in villages—chained to their doghouses, something that’s no longer allowed.

So, I got a Schnauzer named Arnie. We started agility together, but while he loved training, he hated traveling and the stress of competitions. He gave me some “funny” moments inside the ring, but that’s a story for another time.

Fast-forward twelve years. I’m 24, with a lot more dog knowledge, and somehow, I ended up with an adorable tiny black Poodle puppy: Eliot. Thirteen years later, he’s still by my side, and I have a feeling he won’t be the last Poodle in my life.

And those fluffy pompoms? Eliot never got them. Once, in the States, I heard someone say Poodles are for rich people because they need so much grooming. Maybe—but you can also just do it yourself. I started cutting Eliot’s hair with simple scissors when he was three months old, and I’m still doing it. Hundreds of haircuts later, it’s become our special ritual.

These days, I do it on the beach, listening to the ocean and the winds of Fuerteventura when, every month or so, Eliot patiently lets me play “Edward Scissorhands” for a bit. That’s our sweet private meditation session.

Through the years, he’s had all kinds of hairstyles. My favorite was his rasta dreadlocks mohawk running from head to tail. Now he has a simple mohawk. Love it! My small, funky punky Poodle.

Looking back at my twelve-year-old self saying never, I have to smile. It’s funny how we close doors before even peeking inside—thinking we know or because someone told us so. And then life surprises us.Thanks to Eliot, I learned that sometimes the best things in life are waiting just behind our biggest nevers.

With love, Vendula