The text
December 16. She and her siblings arrive. I do not know it yet, but everything is about to change for me.

She always knows.
5:00 PM.
Stop working, Momma. Let's go.
A life measured in little routines.

Since December 16, 2009
December 16, 2009. I get a text. Paris and her siblings have arrived.
About a month later, I go to meet her, bringing Angel, my seven year old Maltese and a full alpha dog. Angel is not easy to impress, but somehow she takes an immediate liking to this tiny Ewok-looking, gummy-bear little body thing. That is Paris.
Paris comes home for good around February 2010. She is full of life. She even brings the childhood back out of Angel. From the day Paris arrives until Angel passes in April 2015, those two are inseparable.
In December 2014, The Other Momma comes into her life and gives her the name we still call her, Shuggie Buggie with a Nuggie.
After Angel is gone, Paris is our only pup for years. Then, in March 2023, Misty joins us. Funny enough, Misty is not Misty yet. When I look at the rescue website, the name on the profile is Paris. We already have a Paris. What are the odds. That coincidence is exactly why I stop on the profile at all.
The little rescue puppy named Paris comes home and needs a new name. We already have a Paris Hilton, so a plain Misty will not do. She becomes Misty Elliott, a play on Missy Elliott.
Misty Elliott is an American Staffordshire Terrier, a bully-breed, which makes the sisters a funny picture: a tiny Shih Tzu big sister and a bully-breed little sister, and Paris is still clearly in charge. Paris does not quite realize what she is getting herself into. Misty is two months old and in full puppy mode; Paris has spent years as our only pup. Misty is not exactly the little sister Paris would have picked for herself.
Misty stays in full puppy mode for a good while, technically her first twelve months, and starts calming down after about a year. We always keep an eye on the two of them together, and Paris knows exactly how to put her little big sister in her place. Paris has never been an alpha dog the way Angel was, but with Misty, she is still in charge.
Now they have their routines together. Dog parks. Piling into my truck just to get pup cups. Walking through Sawgrass Mills Mall, where Misty walks and Paris rides in her stroller like the queen she is.

Every day, right on the hour
After COVID, working from home becomes part of our life. Paris spends her days in my home office with me, usually snoozing nearby while I work.
But somehow, she always knows when it is 5:00 PM. No clock. No alarm. She wakes up and starts prancing around the office.
Her message is clear. Stop working, Momma. Let's go.

She has a whole way of telling me. The prance. The little dance across the office floor. The look that says the workday is over whether I agree or not.
And she is always right. There is always a good reason to close the laptop, and most days she is it.
She reminds me the work will still be there tomorrow. She is usually right.

Co-pilot, sidekick, queen of the stroller
Paris goes everywhere with me. She comes to the park and watches me play basketball or racquetball. She goes on bike rides, tucked into her little carrier on my back.
She even goes to restaurants, where she sits quietly in her carrier. Most of the time, no one even knows she is there. Until she does the doggy shake. Then everyone knows.
These days there are two of them. Dog parks. Piling into my truck for pup cups. At the mall, Misty walks. Paris rides in her stroller like royalty.

Before COVID, Paris was a regular at my office. She came along on business trips to my other offices throughout Florida.
On those long drives across the state, Paris was my co-pilot. My sidekick. Everyone at the offices loved her. I did my IT thing while Paris sat quietly in her carrier.
Wherever I am, that is simply where she wants to be.

Every day when it is time for me to shower, Paris follows me right into the bathroom. She settles in outside the shower and waits, keeping watch the whole time.
She is there when I step out, every single time, like she was making sure nothing happened to me while I could not see.
I always snap a picture of her waiting there, and I always tell her the same thing. Thank you for being my protector.

Not every trip is somewhere Paris can come. When I have to travel out of state, I leave my suitcase open while I pack.
Without fail, Paris jumps right in.
Maybe she figures that if she gets in there first, I have to take her along. Honestly, it almost works every time.

Paris loves the car with her whole body. It does not matter where we are going. A pup cup run counts. A quick errand counts.
For years, it is just the two of us on the road. Now Misty piles in too, but shotgun still belongs to Paris.
As long as she is riding along beside me, it is an adventure.

One dog, many names
Her full name is Paris Hilton. I name her after the singer, and after her 2006 song Stars Are Blind, one of my favorite songs at that time. So when this little puppy comes along in 2009, the name just fits. Paris Hilton. Of course that is her name.
She has more than one name, because one name is never enough for a dog like Paris.
Shuggie Buggie with a Nuggie is the name The Other Momma gives her when she comes into Paris's life in December 2014. It is the whole song she sings to her, all in one name.
Pookie Smukie is my name for her. It comes out on quiet afternoons and at office doorways and every time she looks up from a nap like she has a question.
Mommas baby is what she is every day, meaning simply, my baby. On every walk, at every doorway, at every five o'clock.
2009 to 2026. Every year, a small scene from her life.
December 16. She and her siblings arrive. I do not know it yet, but everything is about to change for me.



Late January. The very first time I hold her, with big sister Angel right in the middle of it all. Home is still a few weeks away, but my heart is already gone.



February, the day I bring her home. Her very first car ride, piled up next to Angel. First stop the vet, then PetSmart.



She brings the play out of everyone. Here she is up on her hind legs dancing with my nephew, 3 at the time, on the balcony, both of them delighted.

A lazy Sunday sprawled out on our bed with her big sister Angel, both of them dozing the afternoon away.

She spends hours with her favorite pink tennis ball, tucked under her paw and guarded from me like treasure.

The holidays with her whole heart. Kisses at our tree, both my girls curled up in the glow of the lights, and Paris up on her hind legs reaching for the stockings on the wall.





All year, my two girls are inseparable, playing from morning to night.






In December, The Other Momma comes into our life and gives her the name we still call her, Shuggie Buggie with a Nuggie.

Our whole family's first Christmas together, three stockings on the wall, one each for Angel, Paris, and The Other Momma. Somehow, I did not get a stocking that year.





In April, she becomes our only pup. Our inseparable years begin.

Memorial Day Sunday out on the boat with us, tongue in the wind, riding up front like she owns it.




Christmas 2015. She spends the season in her holiday sweater, surrounded by presents and a few furry friends who come to celebrate. She even tags along with me on a Christmas errand, holding court on a stool like she owns the place.






I fly to Vegas and leave her behind. One kiss goodbye before the airport, and then I turn a corner and there it is, the Paris hotel with her name up on the balloon. I think about her the whole trip. And she is right there waiting to greet me the second I get home.




Another boat day on the turquoise water with us, tucked safe in The Other Momma's arms.



December 2016. She does the whole holiday season right by my side, from cuddles under the twinkle lights to errands in her Santa gear to a night out at the big Christmas tree. Wherever I go, she goes.






She comes to watch me play basketball and racquetball, holding down the court beside my gear.




The Fourth of July. I load up in my flag headband and star-spangled shades, and Paris rides along for the holiday, grinning from the back seat. Over at my friend's house, her cat Luna tries to take over the carrier. Paris has zero issues with that, sprawled out on the floor without a care in the world.



Halloween night. I am out trick or treating with my niece and nephew, and she comes along dressed as a tiny devil, stealing the whole street.

December 2017. We load up for a road trip to a cabin in the Tennessee mountains to ring in the new year. Long drives with bacon in the back seat, cozy nights by the fire, and Paris bundled up against the mountain cold. She would not miss it for anything.







She comes with me to everything, even a workout, settled on the mats by the weights while I train.


A little photoshoot with her at the dog park, catching the sunset. She poses on the picnic table like she knows exactly how good she looks.





Fourth of July. Paris suits up in her flag bandana and comes along for the whole celebration, riding in her carrier in the back seat and soaking up every bit of the holiday. She collects cuddles and kisses from her people all day long, exactly the way she likes it.



The first drive out to my Lake Wales office. Morning coffee, a walk, and Paris right in the thick of it while I work.







Sunday, November 11, at Duffy's in Kendall, watching our Dolphins get run over by the Packers, 31 to 12. Bad game, good burger, good beer, and the best company right there in her carrier.



A lazy end-of-July afternoon in our pool. Paris pads across the big flag float to get to The Other Momma. This one is my favorite, it was my work laptop screensaver for years.

A long bike ride with Paris tucked in the backpack carrier on my back, then a good meal to reward us both. She has her eye on the bacon.


Christmas 2019. Matching reindeer outfits by the tree, days at the office in her costume where everyone adores her, riding along to deliver gifts among the wrapped presents, and Christmas Eve, just the three of us, over at my best friend's house.







Working from home becomes our life, and she runs the 5 o'clock shift.

Ringing in the new year in Savannah, Georgia. We even find The Paris Market, a whole shop with her name. She struts the brick sidewalks in her plaid coat and rides through the squares like she owns the city.






She rides in her carrier on my back while I bike, tongue out and happy, taking in the whole ride with me.

The Fourth of July again, just me and my Pookie Smukie, right where she belongs and ready to celebrate the day with me.

Christmas 2022. Cozy in her sweater by the fire, the whole family together in their holiday best, and Christmas Day at my best friend's house, where Paris meets the newest little addition to the family.





In March we find a rescue puppy listed as Paris, of all names. The three of us go to meet her, and she comes home to become Misty.




March 18, 2023. The day we finally pick up Misty and bring her home. Paris meets her new little sister, a tiny white puppy who fits right into the stroller beside her. By the end of the day they are already napping curled up together like they have always been a pair.






Our first Fourth of July as a family of four. Paris keeps watch while Misty floats in the pool, grinning under her umbrella. Just a few months after Misty comes home, and already celebrating side by side.

Paris and Misty's very first Christmas together. Matching pajamas, cozy sweaters, and a night out driving through the holiday lights as a family of four.








Christmas 2024. Our queen and her little big sister, side by side in their holiday sweaters. Paris and Misty by the tree, matching pajamas on the couch, and the four of us together. Sixteen years in, and she still runs the show.









A February trip up to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, both girls bundled against the cold and riding together in the stroller. Paris takes in the mountain town wrapped up warm in my arms.






Christmas 2025. She turns sixteen this month, and it is her sixteenth Christmas with me. She and Misty match in their pajamas, the four of us piled on the couch, and a morning with Santa at the park. Sixteen years in, and she is still the center of every Christmas.






No clock, no alarm. Every day at five, she comes to get me.


She can sit so quietly in her carrier at a restaurant that no one knows she is there. Then comes the shake, tags jingling, and the whole room turns to look. Cover blown, every time.

Paris does not walk when she can ride. This is Hollywood Beach, the last weekend before Misty comes home, just the two of us. She sits up in her stroller and takes it all in like the royalty she is.

A rescue puppy on the website, already named Paris. I had to do a double take. That coincidence is the whole reason I stop on Misty's profile at all.
My sweet Paris,
Thank you for waking up from your bed in my office every day right at five o'clock, and prancing around by the door like clockwork. Thank you for knowing, always, exactly when I need to stop and step away from the desk.
You are my co-pilot across the whole state, my sidekick at every office, the tiny thing who jumps into my suitcase so I cannot leave you behind. You measure our days in little routines, and those little routines add up to the best years of my life.
Thank you for always being my protector. Every single time I shower, you plant yourself right outside and stand guard until I am done, like nothing in this world is getting past you to get to me. And every time I have to leave you home alone, I promise you I will be back. Baby, I have never once broken that promise. I always come home to you.
You will always be my favorite Chuchi. When I was a little girl, we always had Shih Tzus, and for some crazy reason my mother named every single one of them Chuchi. But I never got to keep them. One after another they would slip out and escape, and one was even stolen right out of our backyard. It broke my heart every time. So when I call you my favorite Chuchi, I mean it with everything in me. You are the one who stayed. You are the one I get to keep. That is why I hold you so close, and why I am so protective of you. Nothing is ever going to happen to you, not while I am here.
You are, and will always be, Mommas baby. You are my Pookie Smukie. You are Shuggie Buggie with a Nuggie. Whatever name I say, you know it is for you.
I am so grateful for every ordinary afternoon with you curled up near my desk. When five o'clock comes, I am listening for your feet prancing around the floor.
You always know. And you are so deeply, completely loved.
Love always,
Momma

Since 2009
She always knows.
When it's five o'clock.