Okay, last one because I have homework and it’s 12:30am oops.
This was the first picture I ever took of Gladys. I was sixteen, horribly depressed, and my parents were so desperate to keep me in school they finally caved into my requests to get a corgi.
We’d been looking into breeders and were about to send in a few applications when my dad and I went to the local animal shelter to train as volunteers for the dogs. It was all pretty standard-issue until we headed over to the dog building with the scant few other volunteers and entered the small dog room.
A huge barking set up. I’m a solid 5’3” and I was at the very back of the pack, and the first thing I remember seeing was this huge pair of big brown ears sticking up over the heads of the people in front of me. So, naturally, I get up on my toes and hang onto my dad, trying to see if my suddenly-thumping heart was justified.
It was: this fluffball of a dog, a Pembroke Welsh corgi, sat in the top-right cage, just watching. Being sixteen and naturally excitable, I freaked out.
Our wonderful guide had meant to take a dog out for us to learn a few things with anyway, so when she heard my excitement she said, “I guess we know who’s coming out!” That was how I met “Brownie,” which is one of the more ridiculous names I’ve ever heard on a dog.
The rest of the night was kind of a blur. The only other thing I strongly remember are standing out in the cramped hallway, just me and Brownie, crying my eyes out over this amazing gift God had sent me: she had literally arrived at the shelter yesterday, wasn’t even in the system yet. She was the sweetest creature I had ever met, so, so friendly, a stumpy six-month-old ball of love. This was my dog. This was my dog.
The day after that I came back, which is when I took this picture: it was September some time, and I vividly recall romping through the tiny stretch of leaf-strewn grass behind the shelter. The days it took to get her spayed and processed through the shelter’s system was agonizingly long. It took me approximately twenty minutes to find the perfect name for her, and I filled my time with painting an old plastic kennel for her.
Exactly a week from that Friday night we drove straight there after school and picked up my girl. My Gladys.
She’s been the light of my life ever since. I learned to draw animals better because of her, I changed my nickname online to Corgi, and she was a major reason I survived high school. I miss her every day I’m at college, and I know she misses me.
Good dog, best friend.
Corgis. They’re life changers.
It’s not common enough, unfortunately! The fluffy gene is an aberration, and recessive too.
She’s super cuddly, I love just sinking my hands into her fur (in some places it’s over 3inches long!)
Corgis. Get Some.
I firmly believe that corgis are wonderful, that they bring love and joy to the world like goofy funny furry fairies. I have chosen to answer the call and spread more of said love and joy to the world. I welcome you to do the same!
Submit to the corgi!