Frida’s Story – Is Adoption Actually Cool?

Five years ago this year, I came across a certain Facebook ad. One of the dog shelters in Mány had posted it, and the cutest little fluffball was looking back at the camera, huddled together with its siblings, blissfully unaware of the world around them. That year—to be precise, in 2021—I was still fairly new to the working world and adult life after the long, long years of university, so you can imagine how little I knew about where I belonged... let alone how much responsibility came with taking in a dog in your early twenties. I’d had a cat before, whom I loved just as much, but the two lifestyles they bring with them are in a completely different league.

But hey, maybe I’d find my way along the way. What did we have to lose? So we got in the car, visited the shelter, and had our big meeting. The next day, we brought in the signed adoption papers. And that’s how I became a dog mom. Frida found a home—and a thousand and one adventures—on October 26. Saying she “took me out of my comfort zone” would be a cliché that still doesn’t quite capture the truth, though I suppose something like that did happen over the years. No matter how complicated life gets, our daily walk is always there, rain or shine. If something’s wrong, she senses it right away and runs for her most bedraggled little toy to give it to you, and that’s sure to make things better. And with her, they really do get better. Every time.

In the first few weeks, getting used to the daily routine and house-training her—and the early mornings that came with it—went surprisingly smoothly at first. Anyone who knows me can imagine how little I fit the image of a “morning person” that comes up in a search. There were tough moments, when we’d barely slept for three weeks because my clever little pup would wake me up four or five times a night to go out. At the shelter, they said she was a beagle and an Australian Shepherd; as it turned out, she was an Australian Cattle Dog rather than a shepherd, which meant an active lifestyle every day and lots and lots of kilometers. But we found our rhythm pretty quickly and managed to get our lives in sync. Five or ten years ago, if you’d asked me what my perfect day off looked like, I’d have said something like relaxing at home. Frida has changed that quite a bit. These days, I only stay home to work—the sewing machine and my half-room’s worth of art supplies aren’t exactly portable. If someone’s asking me for gift ideas, I find myself naming things like hiking boots or a nice backpack—or, of course, you can never go wrong with a set of paints. That part hasn’t changed over the years. And that’s without even mentioning how much a child or a dog calls on your social side. I think that’s slowly developed over the years, too. I’m sure plenty of dog owners can relate to one of the slogans on our bandanas, which sums us up perfectly (“I don’t bite, but she does”), for when your dog is more sociable than you’ve ever been. Simple situations like that are usually where the best product ideas come from, too.

When I hear someone say, “But it’s just a dog,” my first thought is usually, “And you’re just an idiot.” But I know that person hasn’t yet connected with them on that level—with their unconditional love—or understood how much a little soul like this can become part of your personality. If you let them, they can teach you far more than you can teach them. I really came to love regular walks in nature and hikes together with her: the Blue Trail, the mountains of Slovenia, forest paths, or just casual twenty-kilometer bike rides across the Great Plain. And before I knew it, this had become my life.