A Lonesome Cowboy

I woke up on August, 23rd with the sole intention of seeing off my friends James and Ashley, whose 24-hour visit to NYC was coming to an end.

I walked back home from Knickerbocker Ave and plopped down onto my bed. I scrolled on Instagram for a short while, until I came across my friends story. My jaw dropped and my head was filled with confusion. It was a photo of him holding a massive dog with the following; "Somebody gave me this puppy in the park. Only in New York. If anyone wants a 7-8 month old mastiff in Brooklny, let me know".

I messaged him out of curiosity. He told me he was down in NYC on a work trip, and that morning he went on a run in Fort Green Park. At the end of his run, he approached the dog's owner to compliment him. The conversation quickly turned into a one-sided plea. The man asked my friend to take his dog, apparently "his mother no longer wanted the dog". After some back and forth my friend GP took the dog.

My heart sank, no information was given about this dog. No name, no medical history, no age, or breed...nothing. I knew I wouldn't be able to support this dog, so I told myself I didn't want him. But deep down I really wanted this fucking dog. GP told me he had work the next few days and wouldn't be able to tend to the dog. I told him I couldn't adopt him, but that I could at the very least watch him for a few days while he finished up work. He agreed.

I grabbed a bag and took a stroll down to my local film lab (Exposure Therapy) where GP was currently waiting with the dog. He was the sweetest, most precious, and biggest puppy I'd ever met. GP and I caught up for a little bit, then I took this lonesome vagabond to my tiny apartment.

Not even thirty minutes passed by and I knew that I'd be keeping this dog. I didn't know how, but I knew he was now mine, and I was now his. So I did the most logical thing any 22-year-old would do...call my mother and ask if she wanted a dog. After a few conversations over the course of the weekend, she agreed to temporarly take on this dog for me.

Cowboy the 7-month-old South African Mastiff lived in Brooklyn with Chase and I for two and a half weeks before making his final depatrure to the quaint town of Chatham, NY where he now happily roams around in my mother's yard digging holes and eating shoes.