Susan & Oishi Ep. 1 “I Got You, Buddy” Where It All Started

A Rescue with Bark (and a Lot of Drama)

Narrator: Oishi (Yes, I’m a dog. Try to keep up.)

Once upon a mildly humid afternoon, a male dog named Ketchup and a lady dog named Mustard locked eyes at the park.

Boom. Romance. Scandal. Questionable leash etiquette.
And nine weeks later, me: a squishy, judgmental little pup with excellent hair and no inheritance.

From the moment I opened my eyes, I was filled with wonder. Big world. Big feelings. So naturally… I got lost. Because of course I did. Born with curiosity, not GPS.

I wandered. Sniffed some trash. Contemplated the void. Then, tired and slightly dramatic, I collapsed under a tree, waiting for fate. Or snacks.

Enter: Susan.
A human. Hair flying, eyes wide, full rescue-mode activated. She scooped me up like I was a clearance item at an emotional Black Friday sale.
She whispered, “I got you, buddy.”

Cue slow-motion. Wind. Music. Oscar-worthy emotional zoom.
In that moment, I made a vow:

• I will stay by her side.
• I will protect her.
• I will ignore most humans unless they have beef jerky.

Life was good. Susan worked. Came home. Pet me like I was therapy wrapped in fur. On weekends, we hit the park. Simple. Wholesome. No drama.

Until… drama.
She went from “I got you, buddy,”
to “Why is this happening to me, Oishi?”

Former queen. Now a stressed-out goblin powered by caffeine and online shopping.

Every night, she’d hold me like I was an emotional stuffed toy and mumble about:

• how work drained her,
• how the pizza guy was late,
• and how our neighbor keeps blasting “Bed of Roses” like they’re were trying to summon 1992.

I stared at her like, “Susan… are you okay? Do I need to stage an intervention or just knock over a wine glass dramatically?”

I’m a Shih Tzu. I don’t know much about existential dread, but I do know when someone’s spiraling into a mid-level life crisis while holding a dog like a support burrito.

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Narrator: Susan (The Melodramatic Hooman)

It was raining. I was overworked, overcaffeinated, and probably emotionally bankrupt.

Then I saw him—tiny, soaked, pathetic in a cinematic kind of way.
I pulled over. Ran to him. Scooped him up. Whispered:
“I got you, buddy.”

And that was it.
We didn’t know it then, but maybe that moment was heaven-sent.

Me — drenched in burnout. Him — lost, tired, and hopeful.
We found each other.

And somehow, we both knew…
“God must’ve been listening.”
Because He didn’t just give us a rescue story.
He gave us a companion.

Oishi became my emotional WiFi.
He doesn’t speak, but I swear he judges with love.

Sometimes, I imagine him saying things like:

• “Susan… the pizza guy isn’t a villain. He’s just late. Like your rent.”
• “Yes, life is hard, but maybe don’t buy three pairs of shoes during a panic spiral?”
• “Maybe your coworker wasn’t rude. Maybe… you were just hungry.”

Oishi doesn’t stress. Doesn’t overthink.
He naps like it’s a paid job.
He exists like every day is just another opportunity to sit in a sunbeam and ignore everyone.

So now, I’m trying.
To slow down.
To be present.
To learn from my emotionally distant dog guru.

Because sometimes, the best life coach is a furball with great hair and zero emotional baggage.

Still rising 🔥 Still barking 🐾

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