From Hiding to Belonging
I’ve never felt like a winner when it comes to belonging. After I moved to Mexico, I was bitten by a great desire for a chihuahua. I think I imagined this little dog of the future might be a creature of my own, another being I belonged to, and who belonged to me.
My first attempt at adopting a chihuahua was a little catastrophe. I stopped trying and just quietly, steadily put it out there: I’d really like a dog.
Lo and behold, after I despaired it would never happen, a little dog fell in my lap. Not literally, but we were paired by a dog whisperer who knew me and who knew Gwen, Lily’s original Bone Voyage rescuer. Apparently, Lily ‘told’ Diane psychically that she belonged with me. That’s how it all started.
On my way to Gwen’s house, I tried to connect with the little dog for the first time, in dog whispering style. What do you need? I asked her in my mind.
“Space. I just need my space,” Lily answered.
“I can do that!” I exclaimed.
I mean, I understand firsthand that, when you haven’t felt belonging, you might need a little elbow room.
When I arrived at Gwen’s house, Lily hid from me. She was great at disappearing, a survival method she’d developed in a chaotic environment competing with big dogs for scraps.
“Yes,” I told Gwen. “This is definitely my dog.”
I was 100% certain.
“I thought no one would ever take her!” Gwen confided. “I mean, who wants a dog who avoids people?”
Me. I do. Because I understand avoidant attachment. It’s wanting connection but not being able to trust. I have patience for that.
After three months with me, I saw a switch flip in Lily’s little brain while we sat together on the patio in the sunshine.
“I belong to Amie, and I’m safe!” she seemed to realize all at once.
From there, Lily branched out and started approaching people, who received her enthusiastically. A little later, she even started to make a few dog friends. Today, those who knew Lily before we were paired can’t believe the transformation.
“You’ve done an amazing job,” said one of Gwen’s friends after Lily affectionately ran over to her in the plaza.
I think it may have been Lily who did the job though! Lily gave me someone to love. My community began to see us as a unit. It wasn’t just me anymore. It was me and Lily.
I bring her everywhere. To parties, to yoga classes, to the mercado. She charms everyone, helping me to make friends. When I give a massage to a client, she’s beside me the whole time, lying contentedly in her basket. It’s as if she’s supporting me as I do my job.
We sleep together at night and hit the day together when the sun rises. I’m never alone. Lily is always with me, and, despite my shortcomings, she seems to love me the way that I am.
We do still take space for ourselves some days, but that’s never a problem. We both know we have a place where we belong in this big world that never changes. And it’s definitely with each other!
Dr. Amie Myers is a retired university professor originally from Canada. She presently lives in Chapala Centro with her dog Lily, where she works at her Clinic – PEMF Wellness – as a Pulsed Electromagnetic Field therapy provider (massage, guided visualizations, and facials also available with PEMF) and Swiss Bionic Solutions distributor. Walking Lily and visits to Parque Cristiania are daily highlights for her, as well as yoga classes, cycling to Ajijic, and days spent with her boyfriend, Carlos, and with excellent friends.
We invite original essays of up to 700 words for Among Animals. Tell us about the creatures who share our lives—wild or domestic—and the ways they challenge, comfort, and change us. Email submissions to editorelojodellago@gmail.com with the subject line: “Among Animals.”
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- Among Animals – August 2026 - July 30, 2026
