I thought I broke my new best friend…
When I was little, my parents brought home a tiny black Cockapoo.
Fancy name for a Cocker Spaniel and Poodle mix.
To me, he was just… Our Dog.
I was still learning how to talk, so “Our Dog” came out more like “Ar-doh.”
That stuck just enough that my parents turned it into something real.
Argo.
It sounded important. Like he had a story before we even knew it.
What I didn’t know was that before we got him, his tail had been banded.
No one explained that part to a little kid.
So one day, I was playing with my new puppy…
and his tail came off in my hand.
I remember just freezing.
Looking at him.
Looking at what I was holding.
Certain I had just broken my best friend on day one.
I was devastated.
Argo, meanwhile, did not seem nearly as concerned.
That probably should have been my first clue about who he was.
We got past it.
We became inseparable.
For almost 16 years, it was me and Argo figuring things out together.
He was fast. Really fast.
Lived up to the name.
He’d tear across the yard chasing frisbees, balls, anything that moved.
But his favorite thing in the world…
was chasing cars.
Not a great hobby.
Luckily, we lived on a quiet road.
Still, he treated every passing car like a personal challenge.
And not just cars.
Anything with wheels was fair game.
Trucks. Trailers. Farm equipment.
I used to think maybe he believed the black tires were other dogs invading his territory.
And he took that personally.
The problem was…
he wasn’t great at judging distance.
Or timing.
So every once in a while, he’d slam into a tire mid-chase…
bounce off…
and tumble away like a loose basketball.
Shake it off.
And go right back at it.
Like nothing happened.
One day, that obsession almost got him killed.
Dad was backing a tractor out of the hay shed.
Big one. Dual tires.
The kind that don’t leave room for mistakes.
I was doing exactly what every dad tells a kid to do in that moment.
Staying out of the way.
Argo was not.
He saw the tractor move…
and that was all the invitation he needed.
He took off after it.
Full speed.
The problem was, the tractor was in reverse.
And Dad couldn’t see him.
Argo went straight for the tires.
And suddenly, the tractor was coming right at him.
Then it happened.
Those dual tires were spaced just far enough apart…
that when Argo got caught…
he didn’t get crushed.
He got pinched.
Pulled under.
Disappeared for a second.
And somehow…
came out the other side.
Still running.
Still chasing the tractor.
Only now…
he was mad.
Because in his mind…
the tractor had started it.
I stood there, heart pounding, trying to understand what I just saw.
He should’ve been gone.
But he wasn’t.
That was Argo.
From the moment I thought I broke him…
to the moment he somehow outran something that should have ended him…
he just kept going.
Like the world was something to chase, not something to fear.
And maybe that’s what I remember most.
Not the close calls.
Not the chaos.
Just that feeling…
that some things are tougher than we think.
Even when we’re sure they’re broken.
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone.
