About Adopting a Puppy (2)
As the scenery outside the car window gradually shifted into the familiar neighborhood, my heart began to pound uncontrollably. This was no longer some vague daydream or fleeting illusion. It was real.
“We’re here. Oh my, it’s small but cozy, isn’t it~?”
When we arrived at my studio apartment, Gomo set Som down and placed the box she’d brought in the middle of the living room. For just a day or two of dog-sitting, she had packed an astonishing amount of supplies. I hadn’t realized she would prepare this thoroughly.
“Alright, let’s start by setting up her cushion. That spot next to the bookshelf looks nice and snug.”
Gomo got right to work, pulling out a plush cushion from the box and arranging it in place.
“She needs her own spot to feel secure. We’ll put her food bowl and water bowl right next to it, side by side.”
I followed Gomo’s lead and set down the bowls. With each item finding its proper place, I felt the once-empty studio slowly filling with a different kind of color.
“And Seung-ho, this is the most important part.”
Gomo glanced toward the bed as she spoke.
“Never, ever let her jump down from the bed. Maltese have weak patellas, and once they get injured, they might need surgery. You have to pick her up and set her down gently every time.”
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Also… she has some separation anxiety, so she might howl or whine when you leave. Never scold her for it. For thirty minutes before you go out, don’t even acknowledge her on purpose. And when you come back, ignore her for about five minutes so she learns that your leaving isn’t a big deal.”
The endless list of precautions continued—how much food to give, how long to walk her, how to manage her tear stains. While Gomo explained everything, Som circled around my feet, sniffing and exploring the unfamiliar space.
The fact that this tiny living creature was now in my space, and the weight of being responsible for her life, pressed down on my shoulders at the same time.
Can I… really do all of this?
When she finished, Gomo seemed to read my anxious thoughts. She gave my shoulder a warm pat.
“Don’t be too scared. You’ll get used to it as you go. And if anything comes up, call me anytime, okay?”
“Yes, Gomo. Drive safely. Thank you so much.”
Gomo left, and the front door clicked shut. With that sound, only Som and I remained in the space.
By then, Som had settled onto the cushion that was now her new bed. She sat there, looking up at me with those round, dark eyes.
Only then did it truly sink in. This place was no longer just mine alone.
That night, after finishing all the setup, I lay down in bed. Normally I would have drifted off right away, but my mind was wide awake. Every bit of my attention was fixed on the soft, rhythmic breathing coming from Som on her cushion.
It was quiet, but not lonely. The sensation of sharing my space with a living being. I slowly fell asleep wrapped in that strange, warm sense of peace.
How much time had passed? I woke to a sharp scratching sound cutting through the darkness.
“Whine… yelp!”
When I turned my head, two small glowing points stared at me reproachfully from the shadows. It was Som. She stood in front of the front door, pawing at it desperately while crying pitifully.
“Som, what’s wrong…”
As I approached, she stopped crying and clung to my leg. But the moment I lay back down, she raced straight back to the door and started howling again.
Separation anxiety. The very thing Gomo had warned me about had become reality.
I checked the clock. Two in the morning. Had the neighbors on the other side of the wall woken up from the noise? What if they came knocking to complain?
Ironically, I found myself missing the suffocating silence of my past for the first time.
My heart sank coldly. So this was how it would turn out. My selfish loneliness had finally become a burden on others.
“Som, please… just be quiet for a bit…”
Even my desperate plea did nothing to stop her crying. As I clutched my head in frustration, Gomo’s words suddenly came back to me.
If anything happens, call me right away!
Contacting her at this hour would be incredibly rude. My rational mind screamed a warning. But the fear that Som’s piercing cries might be leaking out through the door forced my hand toward the phone.
“Gomo, I’m so sorry for calling at this hour… Som keeps scratching at the door and crying… What should I do?”
Clothes. Something that carried my scent.
I grabbed the hoodie I’d tossed carelessly over the chair. Then I carefully placed it beside Som’s cushion where she was still whining.
Som stopped crying at once. She spent a long time sniffing the hoodie, her little nose making soft snuffling sounds that filled the room. Eventually, she climbed on top of it, curled her body into a tight ball, let out one big yawn, and fell fast asleep.
Just like that, the crying stopped.
“Wow… it really worked. Thank you so much.”
I stood there for a long time, gazing down at the tiny creature breathing peacefully on my hoodie. The realization that I had given this small being a sense of security spread through me like a warm, overwhelming wave of emotion.
The room grew quiet again, but this was no longer a lonely silence. It was a full, warm stillness filled with the sound of a small living being’s breath.
I sat down carefully on the floor and watched Som sleep for a long while. My world was beginning to change, little by little.
** The next morning, it wasn’t my alarm that woke me. It was the sunlight pouring through the window and the soft warmth I felt at my feet. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Som had somehow climbed onto the foot of my bed during the night and curled up there, fast asleep. Whatever had happened overnight, it seemed my side was now the most comfortable place for her.
I slipped out of bed as carefully as I could so I wouldn’t wake her. My steps toward the kitchen felt different than usual. Instead of pushing bread into the toaster like always, I reached for the bag of dog food first.
I measured out the proper amount into her food bowl and filled the water bowl with fresh, clean water. The clinking sounds woke Som, and she came running over, tail wagging happily.
The crunching noise of her eating kibble. Instead of the mechanical sounds that used to echo in the empty room, pleasant everyday noises now filled my mornings.
“Eat slowly,” I said without thinking, my voice coming out softer than usual. It felt awkward, yet I didn’t dislike it.
But when it was time to leave for my part-time job, the real trial came again. Following Gomo’s advice, I tried to ignore Som for thirty minutes before leaving. Turning away from her as she followed me around and whined pitifully was much harder than I had expected.
The moment I closed the front door, a howl-like cry erupted from the other side. My heart dropped. My feet refused to move. Still, I trusted Gomo’s words and forced myself to walk away.
The entire time I worked at the cafe, my mind was consumed with worry about Som. What if she’s still crying? What if the neighbors file a complaint? My chest felt so tight that I couldn’t focus on my tasks.
Finally, as soon as my break started, I turned on my phone and opened the search bar. “Home cam,” “pet CCTV.” Product descriptions filled the screen. There was no reason to hesitate.
Almost in a trance, I added the highest-rated one to my cart and pressed the purchase button without a second thought. I wanted to ease this anxiety somehow and protect that small life.
That evening, the moment I opened the front door, a white ball of fur shot toward me like a bullet and leaped into my arms. A being who looked at me as if I were her entire world, rejoicing with pure joy at seeing only me.
I wanted nothing more than to hug her back, but Gomo’s warning echoed in my head.
When you come back, you have to ignore her for about five minutes so she learns that your leaving isn’t a big deal.
“Whine… whimper…”
But it was easier said than done. Those five minutes of pretending not to notice the white fluffball staring at me and crying felt like an eternity.
“Did you guard the house well by yourself, Som? You did a good job.”
Only after five minutes had passed could I finally speak to her.
Our first walk together happened that evening. It was completely different from the awkward one I’d taken with Gomo before. The weight of the leash held firmly in my hand, the sound of Som’s footsteps matching my pace beside me—I felt, for the first time, the complete responsibility of being a guardian, along with the profound fulfillment that came with it.
When Som tried to bark at another dog, I didn’t panic. I calmly picked her up the way Gomo had taught me and took a different route. These small successes were slowly, very slowly, lifting me up from the bottomless pit I had been falling into.
On the way back to the studio after our walk, Som stayed close by my side, matching her steps perfectly to mine. Then she suddenly looked up at me, as if checking to make sure I was still there. That look of complete trust made something in my chest tighten with warmth.
As I walked down the quiet hallway, the faint sound of a TV drifted out from the neighbor’s apartment. I stopped without realizing it. My heart sank. Had the sound of Som crying during the day carried through the walls to them?
A very real fear gripped me. Instead of a sigh of relief, I swallowed dryly and quietly unlocked the door.
That night, after finishing the entire day, I lay down in bed. From the cushion that had now become her proper place at my feet, I could hear Som’s soft, steady breathing.
In the darkness, I whispered to myself.
I had told myself I would only keep her for a day or two. That cowardly excuse that I could return her anytime. But I already knew the truth.
I could never go back to that old silence again.
My gaze drifted to the pet supplies scattered around the room. The preparations were far too thoughtful for something that was only supposed to last a day or two. And behind the excuse of “just trying it for a couple of days,” there had been my true feelings all along.
Gomo knew me far too well.