Who Keeps the Dog? Stealing Simba Back From My Crazy Ex

After moving back to SF (See: Moving Back to SF and Jump-starting My Car), I didn’t have much. I didn’t have my own place yet (I’ve since moved into my new apartment), I haven’t moved out of my old apartment with my crazy ex (I’ve since received a police escort to retrieve my immediate things), and I was unemployed (I’ve since started freelance writing). Things were falling back into place except for one thing.

My dog. A beautiful golden retriever puppydog named *Simba.

I was on the fence about what to do with Simba. The apartment I currently lived in didn’t allow pets, but with the right service paperwork, I could keep him. That would take time though. The other option was giving him up to a nice family. Sad.

After chatting with my old co-worker about possibly finding another owner for Simba, she instructed me to send a short doggy bio and attach pictures, so she could forward it over to the appropriate people.

I sat in front of my computer staring at the cutest pictures of Simba, and I just didn’t have the heart to do it. I could not give my baby away. So I ended up thinking very hard.. and came up with a third option. I needed to find someone who could temporarily foster Simba. Someone with dog experience who lived in SF.

It took about an hour, but I finally found someone who fit the criteria. His name is *Troy and he was an old acquaintance from college.

I didn’t go into detail, and I honestly didn’t know what he could do for me, but I contacted him. After a few minutes, this dude responds, “I’ll help you.” DUDE. He didn’t even know what I was going to ask for!

Troy: “If you’re desperate enough to ask me, then you’re probably in a bad situation.”

Wow. What a good guy. He didn’t even want to hear the entire story, respected my privacy, and was willing to help foster Simba. I owed him a huge favor.

I realized I owed a lot of people huge favors. All my life, I prided myself in not needing anyone for help, and here I was depending on strangers and friends to keep myself afloat. I will repay them in the future for helping me go through this tough time in my life, I swear.

I happily emailed my old co-worker telling her that I found a solution, and I’m going to keep Simba forever. I’m in it for good now. She was happy. I was happy. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Even though I officially had a plan for Simba now, I was still worried. My ex kept threatening he was going to sell him on Craigslist. He kept complaining so much that I was concerned about my dog’s safety. If I know my ex, I know he’s irresponsible and inconsistent. He would overfeed Simba one day and another day completely “forget” to feed or even bother walking him. He’s threatened to give him away before, but when the buyer asked for Simba’s paperwork, it had MY NAME on it as his owner. HE’S MY DOG YO, so my ex couldn’t legally give him away without my express permission.

<^>(0_0)<^> The hate is real.

Anyways, I met up with my friend *Lily, and we went on a mission to save Simba from my ex. You see.. Simba lived in my old apartment. I was so scared to enter without a police escort, but the time to call them had passed. I needed to get in there. My ex knew this, which was why he held onto Simba in the first place.

My ex was under the impression that Lily was going to come pick up our dog alone, so he would need to wait outside to let her into the apartment. Nope. She didn’t want to interact with him at all, so we both went stealth-mode in my car. We spied him waiting outside the building, and I snuck in through the side garage, out of sight.

The plan was to get inside undetected, and grab Simba and his things as fast as we could before my ex returned. Unfortunately, Simba threw a fucking wrench into our plans when we got there. Did I also mention that my ex owns a parrot? This parrot might as well been a guard dog because that little thing was squacking away.. drawing so much attention.

To top things off, Simba PEED all over the place from excitement. Does my ex not walk him? This dog peed a fucking ocean in the apartment! So here we were.. parrot screeching his lungs out as I scurried to clean up the pee-pee mess. The trashcan was empty with no bag or anything. I glanced out the window, and MY EX WAS TURNING BACK TO GO INSIDE. Fuuuuuccckkkk.

So in a rush, Lily and I left the mess on the ground and RAN. Barely missing him, I bolted out of the garage and drove AWAY!

We did a victory cheer on the way back to Lily’s place. I believe I even went into my canine-state and began howling. We walked Simba, he did his potty business, I thanked Lily for her time, and I drove straight to Troy’s apartment to drop off Simba. Everything was getting better, bit by bit.

Troy and I came up with a plan: I was going to come by during the day, while he worked, and he could watch Simba at night. I would be around to help as much as I could, and I could also write at his place. Probably better that way.

I was very grateful to everyone who helped me without asking for anything in return, and it’s something I’ll always remember. I’m happy I got my doggy back.