Roman: The Dog That Started It All (Part 1)

In April 2017, somewhere in a backyard in the Annapolis Valley, Roman made his debut on Earth. What we do know is that his parents were likely a Pit Bull mix and a Rottweiler. (DNA tests later revealed a blend of Rottweiler, Staffordshire Terrier, and Mastiff.) Roman bounced between a couple of homes before finally landing with me, Ashley, in October 2018, at 15 months old.

I wasn’t planning on keeping him. Circumstances led Roman to me, and my initial plan was to trial him in my tiny downtown apartment. If my cat, Penny, didn’t like him, he’d be shipped off to my brother in Alberta! But within two days, Roman and Penny were snuggling together in bed. Still, Roman had to win me over. At 25 years old, I wasn’t sure I was ready for the time commitment of having a dog. But goodness, he was so well-behaved and polite!

Roman was severely underweight, and honestly, I felt embarrassed walking him. His hip bones and spine were so prominent they could have cut you! People would stare and give me dirty looks, and I’d explain, “He’s not mine! I’m just watching him and trying to fatten him up!”

I remember one night when Roman kept staring at me with those demanding eyes. This was after I’d already fed him, taken him for a long walk, given him another potty break, and filled up his water bowl. I turned to my friend, who was visiting, and said, “What else could he possibly want?” My friend gave me a confused look and replied, “…Love? Attention?” If that doesn’t capture the self-centered 25-year-old I was, I’m not sure what else does!

I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but sometime in those first couple of months, my heart finally clicked into place. Maybe it was when I watched Roman and Penny give each other baths. Or when Roman took me swimming. Or how he made me feel safe on our nighttime walks through downtown Halifax. Or when, no matter how many times I tried to keep him on the couch, I’d wake up to find my snoring little spoon curled up beside me. Regardless, I knew: this was my dog. Like any rehomed dog, Roman seemed to figure it out at the same time I did. And that’s when the crazy reactive buffoonery started.

I tried everything to stop him from barking and lunging on walks, but I had to face the truth: I couldn’t handle him. I couldn’t let him off-leash anymore during our swimming and hiking adventures because he’d take off after squirrels. I would come home to things shredded and those sad eyes. Reality hit hard: I had no idea what I was doing. I needed help, and I was willing to do whatever it took to enjoy my first dog again.

So, I reached out to a professional. Little did I know, I had struck gold by choosing Ted Efthymiadis, one of the best trainers in Canada! Through his guidance, I learned how to communicate with Roman and establish healthy boundaries. This process not only helped me understand him better, but it also opened up a world of possibilities for us. With trust restored, we could return to the adventures I’d dreamed of: swimming, hiking, camping, even busy downtown walks. There was nothing we couldn’t do together!

And then, along came Taylor—the spark that would become the catalyst for the rest of our adventures and the life we were going to build. But that’s a story for Part 2. 😊