Campus Life and The Threat

Campus Life and The Threat

Pepperdine University is located on the side of a mountain in Malibu, CA overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It is peaceful and serene, beautiful and breathtaking—and very strict when it comes to its rules. Even today, Pepperdine’s website states that no pets are permitted on campus. I was well aware of this rule. At the same time I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Bailey at home while I attended classes. If left at home, Bailey would be unattended for up to six hours at a time—and he was just a few weeks old.

In late January Bailey and I hopped in my car and drove north on Pacific Coast Highway toward Pepperdine. I wasn’t sure how he would be received or if I would soon be heading south on the same road back to my apartment. I carried Bailey into the Career Services Office, which overlooked a patio adjacent to the law school cafeteria. The women who worked in this office were always very nice to me so I figured that this was my easiest point of entry. The moment they saw Bailey there was no battle to be fought, no rules to enforce. They were taken in by his lovable personality and his desire to be around people. One of the women, Leslie Iwataki, took him from me and rushed off to get him a bowl of water. Bailey was set up on the patio outside the sliding glass doors of Leslie’s office—and it was there he spent the rest of the semester.

Bailey and I settled into a nice routine. We would wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, go for a short walk and then head to school. While I was in class Bailey would be visited by staff members and students who were between classes. Soon enough the Career Services Office had a picture of Bailey on the wall. He became a fixture, a member of the student body or staff—a member of the Pepperdine community. Never once was I reminded by anyone that pets were not allowed on campus. Bailey was just accepted.

One day I finished a morning class and immediately went to visit Bailey at the Career Services Office. He was gone. Naturally I panicked asking Leslie and everyone else in the office if they knew where he was. No one knew. I ran through the sliding glass door of Leslie’s office onto the patio adjacent to the cafeteria to find a group of first year law students (who I did not know) sitting at a table studying contract law. Bailey was curled up in one girl’s lap enjoying the sunshine and the warm breeze—and of course the attention. The students had no idea who I was—but they knew Bailey. The girl called Bailey her “study partner”. Yet again it was another lesson to me. The reason that nobody ever sought to enforce the rules when it came to Bailey was because that most people thought that Bailey was in some way theirs.

Another time the Malibu area had been hit with torrential rain causing mudslides. Even after the rain and mudslides had stopped sand bags remained throughout the Pepperdine campus—including the area that was kept for Bailey outside the Career Services Office. The sand bags didn’t bother Bailey though. It seemed to add to his home away from home. On one afternoon I went to get Bailey after class only to find his entire brown face (including his nose) covered with sand. Bailey (although not a chewer) had chewed through several sand bags. Instead of being angry or annoyed, staff at the school thought it was the cutest thing they had ever seen. Bailey looked up at everyone with the most innocent look on his face as if to say: “What? I am just passing the time”.

When people decide to accept a dog into their lives they do so understanding the great benefits and also the great costs. For me the costs were never anywhere close to the benefits I received. I think the people at Pepperdine felt the same way. The cost of having someone break the “no pets” rule was outweighed by the joy that Bailey brought to everyone at the law school. Similarly the cost of a few sand bags was nothing compared to the benefit of having Bailey around on a regular basis.

For Bailey it wasn’t an effort to please people. It was just Bailey being Bailey. He didn’t perform tricks to keep people entertained nor did he ever realize that he was usually somewhere where he shouldn’t be or wasn’t allowed. He merely took life moment by moment, without agenda. Through his actions he gave us an example of how to live our lives. He loved unconditionally. He held no grudges. He was loyal. And he loved people. At the same time, he never asked for anything special. His needs were simple: Feed me. Walk me. Love me.

Evenings also had a routine. Bailey and I would walk down Granville Avenue to Wilshire Boulevard to pick up dinner. On one particular night, I tied Bailey up just outside the front door of a Subway Sandwich Shop. As I paid for my sub I walked outside to find a scruffy looking individual eyeing Bailey. The man looked at me and said: “Is this your dog?” “Yes,” I replied. “Your lucky,” he said, “I was going to take him”. Now, before I tell you what my reaction was, you should know this: I am not a fighter. I hate the idea of any sort of physical confrontation and I am not violent in any way whatsoever. But on that day I was ready. The idea that someone would even think of taking Bailey from me boiled my blood. After all, I had made him a promise and we were meant to be together. “No you’re lucky,” I said. “I’d kill you.” Thankfully the man didn’t pursue the conversation any further. He gave me a strange look and walked away.

My heart pumped through my chest as I untied Bailey and took the short walk home. To this day I am not sure if the man was ever seriously going to take Bailey. But one thing is for sure: he knew I was serious. He probably walked away thinking: “This guy is crazy”. And if did think that he would have been right. I was absolutely crazy about Bailey. He had been mine for only a few weeks and yet I knew that God had planned many years for us to be together. The funny thing is that Bailey was oblivious to the whole thing. To him it was just another night in Southern California and we were on our way home to eat dinner.