Narrator: What if the key to finding your life’s direction wasn’t in a career, a relationship, or a new city, but in a dream about a small, bug-eyed dog? In her thirties, author Julie Klam felt adrift. Living in New York City, she was working a part-time job and seeking answers everywhere—from psychics to tarot card readers—hoping for a sign to point her toward a more meaningful existence. Then, one night, a sign arrived in a dream. It was a Boston terrier named Otto, and she felt an instant, unshakable conviction that she had to find him. This single, seemingly whimsical decision would become the catalyst that reshaped her entire world. In her hilarious and heartwarming memoir, Some Dogs I Have Known, Klam reveals that this was just the beginning of a lifelong education, where a series of four-legged companions would teach her the most profound lessons about love, loss, compromise, and the messy, beautiful business of being human.

Narrator: Before Otto, Klam’s life was defined by waiting. She was waiting for her real life to begin, for a relationship to give her purpose, and for a clear path to emerge. Getting a dog was a deliberate attempt to shake up this stagnation. The story of Otto illustrates how this decision did more than just add a pet to her life; it fundamentally changed her. Suddenly, her world was no longer just about her own needs. She had to walk him, feed him, and consider his well-being, which taught her the art of compromise—a skill she realized she’d never truly mastered.

Otto became her ambassador to the world. Walking him through her neighborhood, she began to connect with her community in a new way, meeting other dog owners and even striking up conversations with celebrities like Kevin Bacon. The dog run became her new social hub. More importantly, caring for Otto forced her to grow up. She learned selflessness, realizing that if you love someone, you are more than willing to adjust your life to meet their needs. The relationship she built with Otto was, as she describes it, the best she’d ever been in. It proved to her that she was capable of deep, compromising love, giving her a newfound confidence that rippled into every other aspect of her life.

Narrator: Driven by her love for Otto and a desire for a career that would let her spend more time with him, Klam embarked on a humorous and misguided quest to become an animal communicator. She enrolled in a weekend workshop at a new-age retreat, hoping to learn how to talk to animals and turn it into a profession. The experience was a comedy of errors. Surrounded by earnest participants who claimed to hear crickets discussing philosophy, Klam struggled to receive any psychic messages from the animals. Her attempts to "communicate" with a boxer dog resulted in her projecting her own mundane thoughts onto him.

She ultimately concluded that much of psychic ability relies on a level of confidence she simply didn't possess. The experience, however, was far from a failure. In trying and failing to become an animal communicator, she had a crucial realization: she didn't actually want to talk to animals. What she truly loved was telling stories about them. This detour helped her discover that her true calling was writing. The lesson wasn't about gaining a new skill, but about the value of experimentation. Sometimes, the only way to find out what is comfortable and right for you is to first discover what doesn't fit at all.

Narrator: After Otto’s death, Klam’s life grew more complex with a new puppy, a baby, and a move. Feeling a void, she decided to volunteer for a Boston Terrier rescue group. This decision plunged her into the chaotic, emotionally taxing, and deeply rewarding world of animal rescue. Her first foster experience was with Hank, a hyperactive, untrained puppy whose owner had been less than truthful about his behavior. This was her first lesson: rescue work is unpredictable and often involves navigating human deception.

Her involvement deepened when she became a transport coordinator and later took on a case involving a man named John, who needed to surrender six dogs. John was emotionally needy, and his personal problems quickly began to overwhelm Klam. She found herself acting as an amateur therapist, listening to his life story while trying to coordinate the rescue of his dogs. This experience taught her the second crucial lesson of rescue: the animals are often attached to humans who need rescuing themselves. It forced her to learn how to set firm boundaries to protect her own emotional well-being, recognizing that she couldn't fix everyone's problems. Through this work, she found a new sense of balance, realizing that giving a voice to creatures who couldn't speak for themselves was a vital part of her own happiness.

Narrator: Klam’s capacity for "dog love" was tested most profoundly when she fostered Moses, a terrified rescue who had spent his life hiding under a couch. With patience and care, she helped him blossom into a confident, loving companion. She fell deeply in love with him, a love so powerful it felt distinct even from the love she had for her husband and child. This bond made his sudden, tragic death in an accident all the more devastating.

In the aftermath, Klam had to navigate her own profound grief while helping her young daughter, Violet, process the loss. This experience is central to the book's exploration of mourning. She reflects that the end is an inevitable part of every dog's story, and the pain of saying goodbye is the price of admission for the joy they bring. She shares stories of other losses, acknowledging that each one is different, shaped by life’s circumstances. But the core message remains the same. A wise woman once told her that dogs choose their owners, giving them the end of their lives as a gift. Klam concludes that she would rather have any amount of time with a dog she loves and suffer the mourning than not have the time at all.

Narrator: Just when Klam thought she was done with major life changes—turning forty and deciding not to have more children—she agreed to foster Dahlia, a ten-year-old Boston terrier who was dumped at a shelter. Dahlia was in poor health, and the vet suspected a serious illness. But then, the unexpected happened. Dahlia wasn't sick; she was pregnant. One morning, Klam awoke to find two tiny puppies in Dahlia’s bed.

This surprise birth transformed her household into a chaotic, joyful nursery. The experience of caring for a senior mother and her vulnerable puppies was all-consuming but also magical. It taught her about resilience and the capacity for life to surprise you just when you think you have it all figured out. The story of Dahlia and her puppies, Wisteria and Fiorello, became a powerful symbol of second chances and unexpected new beginnings. Despite the immense challenges of raising puppies in a small city apartment, the family ultimately decided they couldn't part with them, embracing the chaos of a four-dog household.

Narrator: Throughout Some Dogs I Have Known, the single most important takeaway is that dogs are far more than companions; they are catalysts for growth. They enter our lives as furry, chaotic agents of change, forcing us to become more patient, more compassionate, and more attuned to the needs of another being. Julie Klam’s journey shows that in the process of rescuing dogs, we often end up rescuing ourselves, finding purpose and balance in the selfless act of giving.

The book leaves us with a powerful reflection on vulnerability. To love a dog is to accept a contract that guarantees mess, expense, inconvenience, and, eventually, profound heartbreak. The ultimate question it poses is not whether we should get a dog, but whether we are brave enough to embrace that beautiful, chaotic bargain for the unparalleled love and self-knowledge it offers in return.