Why I Celebrate My Dog’s Gotcha Day More Than My Birthday

Most people circle their birthdays on the calendar, plan parties, or expect well-wishes and gifts. But to me, that date means less and less with each passing year. Instead, there’s another day I hold sacred—August 18—the day I brought home the dirty, wide-eyed mutt who changed my life.

That was the day Finn chose me. Or maybe I chose him. Or maybe the universe decided we needed each other. Either way, it’s the day I count as my true beginning.

A Rough Start

At the time, I wasn’t looking for a dog. I had just moved to a new city for a job that had me stumped. My relationships were few, my apartment was empty, and most evenings ended with me staring blankly at a flashing screen, feeling like something was missing.

A friend convinced me to come with her to the shelter “just to look.” I went in with the intention of adopting — but left with a skinny brown puppy curled up on my chest. Finn wasn’t the cutest dog in the place. He was timid, underweight, and had a scar over his right eye that hinted at a rough past.

But when I knelt down, he gently placed his paw on my knee and looked at me as if to say, You feel lost too, huh? That was it. I signed the papers, bought a secondhand crate, and went home with my first real purpose in years.

The day everything changed.

Finn’s “Gotcha Day” wasn’t just about saving a dog — it was the day I was saved, too.

He didn’t fix my life overnight. He chewed up my shoes, barked at the shadows, and panicked at the thunder. But every day, he greeted me with a wagging tail like I was the best thing in the world. He reminded me to get up early for a walk, to pause for a belly rub, to laugh at the muddy paw prints on the floor.

Finn got me out of my own head. He taught me what it meant to be needed, to be loved unconditionally, to show up every day even when I didn’t feel like it. He gave me a reason to come home and a reason to wake up. And little by little, I found myself again — only better.

Why Gotcha Day Matters More.

People often ask why I make such a big deal out of Gotcha Day. Every year, I bake a dog-friendly cake (peanut butter and banana—his favorite), hang up a few silly decorations, and take him on an adventure. One year it was the beach. Another year, we went hiking in the mountains. It’s now our tradition.

And every year, I look at it and think: That day changed everything.

My birthday marks the day I came into the world. But Gotcha Day marks the day I really started living.

That’s when I learned what loyalty looks like in the form of a wet nose. What unconditional love feels like when it greets you at the door after the worst day. What happiness smells like after a long walk in the park.

A Celebration of Second Chances

Art didn’t start out well. And honestly, neither did I. But together we created something beautiful. Something solid and peaceful and full of meaning.

So yes, I will continue to celebrate Gotcha Day like it’s the most important holiday on Earth. Because for me - this is it.

This is the day I stopped surviving and started living. This is the day I became someone's whole world. And this is the day I gained a best friend, a partner, and a reason to be better.

And no birthday can match that.