Why the name

Pasito Con Airi

I do not know much about building a brand, or what it means to “sell yourself.”

But I know the vibes I want to give.

It may sound silly, but it is important to me as it is.

Pasito con Airi.

Steps with Airi.

Small steps with Airi.

So let me break it down.

Pasito a Pasito, step by step.

I get too caught up by things sometimes, aiming for the end result and frustrated when I cannot obtain it immediately.

Rushing to the destination without paying attention to the journey.

It takes a lot, a lot of focus, movement, disregard for self care like sleep and eating.

So I crashed.

My own mental health journey has been rocky, it has been for years.

I think ahead to when it will get better.

As a sophomore in highschool, it was in 2 years, until I graduated. Went off to college and explored myself.

In college, it was in 4 years when I would gradua and be independent.

In grad school, it was in 2 years when I would graduate and work for financial stability.

As an LSCWA it is in 2 years, when I get my full license and do not have to focus on the hours and time.

Everything is always 2 years away. 4 years away. 6 months away.

About mid 2022 I was essentially forced to stop and take a look at me, where I was and where I was heading.

Opportunities surrounded me that would keep me in the same spot, and I was forced to cut them loose and process what it meant for me.

And so pasito a pasito I told myself.

Look at the moment, acknowledge my goals and understand my capability.

It has been months of small steps forward, few steps back - a crawl so slow I hardly see the change.

It is full of frustration and guilt, a much different pace to be still and do ‘nothing’ when productivity was always a value and measure of my worth.

However, as I sit where I am I can see the journey and the advances I have made.

Sometimes it looks like steps back, letting go of the standards set by society and reprogramming myself with standards set by me.

Sometimes I look at myself through the lense of my socialization and I am disappointed.

But breaking down the cycles is breaking down the cycles - the loop ends somewhere and I get to decide what I value and what to uphold.

Paso a pasito.

Airi, AKA Babby (or Babi)

Airi is our puppy. It took us a long time to think of a name, because usually when we have pets or things we call them by what they are endearingly.

Hence the list of previous pets looks like:

La Perilla (a dog we took care of)

Tiny Turts (Tiny & Turt - there are 2 turtles)

Carito (My car)

Las Pollas (chickens)

But Airi was our first dog that we kept and cared for.

In the typical American fashion, I started calling her my baby.

In the typical my family fashion, I started mispronouncing her name.

(Sometimes when I have conversations with my family and I think in my mind - no one else would understand this franken-language we have created for ourselves).

And thus Airi became Baby became Babby (or Babi - we can’t agree on the spelling).

I never knew what it was to truly love a pet until I loved her.

I heard of it, I saw it, I thought I understood, but I did not.

I love her beyond measure, and I understand the devastation and beauty behind that love.

Pasito con Airi.

Back in 2021, Babby got sick. Really sick.

While I don’t remember the date, I remember the day clearly.

It started when I was sitting watching tv with my mother. I was on the floor, mother on the couch, and Babby was napping under the couch.

It continues to be one of her favorite places to chill, because she can peak out for pets or crawl back in so that no one touches her but she is still able to spend time with us.

My younger sister arrived home from hanging with her friends and Babby woke up from her nap to greet her with her barking as she tends to do.

This day was different, her barks were hallow and she took a little longer to get out from under the couch.

We laughed and gave her a pet, as she recognized my sister and began wagging her tail. We cooed because poor Babby, estaba modorra, scared awake from her nap that she did not even bark normally.

We carried her to her Babby bed and laid her to sleep.

The next morning (or rather afternoon, I know it was Sunday because I used to get out of bed at 2pm those days) I stepped out my dark room, encandilada into the light because my mom called out to me.

“Jary, esa perra esta mal.”

Mother was cleaning her room and bathroom.

Babby likes to watch over her and walk from her room to the laundry room with her, wagging her tail as mother passes the bin where we store her snacks.

But that day she was not doing so, and she had a hard time getting out from under the couch (a different one, Babby has an affinity for laying under couches).

I saw as she made attempts to stand, she was alert and wagged her tail as I got closer but she could not move to reach me.

I pulled her out and helped her stand. She was able to walk, but her legs were not aligned. When she sat, she was unable to stand on her own again.

The rest was a blur of action.

We were all worried, our older sister came home and we spent time together.

She called the animal ER and placed her on a 16 hour waiting list.

As we waited, we worried.

We spoke together and tried to reassure ourselves things were ok.

That it was just her legs. That she is a pomeranian and had been told she had a weak patella.

Nothing more.

We took her to the ER and nothing was found. Maybe just her legs. Maybe she would need surgery for them. We were relieved, we took her home and set an appointment with her Vet, about a month out.

Then she got worse.

She could not stand at all, she was unable to sit with her front legs. She did not eat or drink, we had to hold her for her to manage a few licks of water. We had to hold her periodically and hope she knew she could pee. She could not sit up or get up.

Our younger sister cried, claimed we had to go to the ER again.

Our older sister was rational, what else can the ER say - as they told us to make an appointment with the vet, there was no more they could do.

The vet appointment was almost a month out, too far out.

It was just her legs I kept thinking, trying to assure myself of something I knew was not the truth.

It was our younger sister who insisted the entire time that it was more than just her legs, and that probably saved her.

My mother spoke to our aunt who recommended a vet.

A decent drive away, but they could see us in emergency the next day.

Which I know saved her.

(So shout out to her Doctor, Babby* was even posted on their site for being such a cute - check her out she is famous. https://www.facebook.com/EastDavie/photos/a.224941194208004/4850664481635629 )

I will not say I 100% understand what was happening, or what was going on.

I just know I loved Babby and we all loved Babby and we were scared, we were sad, and we did what we could.

I took her to the vet, my sisters took her to the vet, our mother went every time.

We gathered, we noted finances, possibilities, options, and hope.

Our vet was attentive, we got medications, and we waited.

And she got better. After a few days, she could feel her toes again and would hide her legs when her vet came by because she began to associate her with a pinch to test feeling.

She began to watch us again, and stare when we ate in hopes for a taste.

A week later we heard her bark again.

Not really bark, but say grr. Growl. Then she began barking in that hallow way, but finally she was speaking.

Then she started walking. First it was small wiggles, just to make it to a pee pad we placed for her. She would fall at first, we had to help her stay in the position but she was able to do it!!

It was weeks for her to walk on her own, my mother slept with her and cared for her at night. When Babby started walking, she would walk out of the room and nap on the vinyl floor. The carpet was probably too warm for her, and she dislikes pillows and blankets in the summer, but would always watch my mother sleep from the doorway.

It was months before she was able to run again.

Months before she wanted to play again. It was meaningful to see her pull her toys out and drop them expectedly in front of us, with that tail wag.

She still gets tired a little too quickly, just walking away to hide beneath the couch again and peek at us holding her toys.

It was as if she aged too fast, and then regained her youth.

Different but still her.

She still has difficulty using the bathroom sometimes, she can’t hold up her leg.

Her medication is permanent. She is a chunky Babby, large due to hunger from the medication, steroids, and probably our attention with many treats (which we are trying to limit, but she is cute and spoiled).

She came when we all needed her, and has watched us develop. She is our reminder to slow down, give a few pets and maybe join her in rest.

There is so much more to her story, to her influence on our lives that I could describe.

However this is in her name.

Pasito con Airi.

Pasito for me, for us, and our journey.

Con Airi, as she also makes steps for her health and wellbeing.

We support her and she is there for us.

Caring for the mind, body, and spirit. A journey of holistic care, a path we all walk.

Paso a pasito, con Airi.

* Also she is Ren on the post because I guess that is her legal name. Whole different story, also with symbolism on white washing names and pacifying people who butcher them.