In this new series, noted authors will write about the person who changed them forever. This week, Elizabeth Wurtzel discovers the pet love of her life
I lost Augusta a year ago. I used to say to her: no matter how much you think I love you, I love you more. So much more.
I met Augusta on 10 September 2003 at the city pound in Harlem. I ended up there after searching for a dog at the Humane Society and the ASPCA, which are all more pleasant. I wanted to love and be loved, so I was looking for any great dog whatever the age. I was thinking some variation on a labrador retriever, because I was told they were sweet. But really, I supposed I would figure it out.
I knew nothing about breeds. I knew nothing about dogs. I was guided by love. Love is my compass.
I fell for many dogs and puppies I met along the way, but for one reason or another, none of them worked out. Some were already adopted, and just waiting to be spayed. They would not let me take a too-strong Akita mix as my first dog because he would end up dragging me down the street by his tether. They wouldnt allow me have a dalmatian with a chronic intestine condition that would be too much for someone with no experience.
I walked by many desperate cages; it was frustrating and upsetting. We put people behind bars for murder and mayhem. We do this to dogs for no reason at all.