Faith, Coffee, & Caine

Written by Josh Slaughenhoupt.

Something strange happens nowadays. I don’t see my breath outside anymore and people wave to me when they see me across campus…

How things are this point in the semester compared to how they were in the beginning--it feels light years away. I was more than thrilled to be a Hokie, although quite frankly I wasn’t one back when I arrived for my first semester of graduate school in late December. My VT stocking cap only helped me look the part. My first day in Blacksburg was filled with snow showers as I unloaded my vehicle to move into my new apartment. Shortly after getting here, all the enthusiasm of coming to VT was over and the people who rooted for me were now 300 miles away. Instead, I had to create my own enthusiasm as I walked in crowds of strangers.

I took a big risk coming to VT. For one, it was a controversial decision with my family to come mid-year. Meanwhile, there was a very realistic chance I was going to leave prematurely if I didn’t play all my cards right. The ability to stay in the program for me personally was dependent on the potential to get a professional development opportunity through a Graduate Assistantship (GA) — a major priority for me to make my presence on campus and live a sustainable life in Blacksburg. I was already rejected from several positions prior to coming and had no connections on campus. The VT experience I perceived I’d have kind of served like the “shining city on the hill”. Mainly because I knew there was brighter days ahead, but everything was going to be an uphill battle until it got here. However, I was going to keep swinging until I struck out. With every obstacle, I just swung  back with everything I had. I had faith, coffee, and even a hidden weapon I didn't have in my undergrad days; this time I had my German Shepard, Caine.

Caine was always willing to do homework with me— no matter how late. He was the only one who would eat with me, too. I was so happy to finally have him, but at first I started to second-guess my decision to bring him. He didn’t choose to come here and we weren’t having a lot of fun at first. Also, he HATED when I left him, and I had to leave him often. Cries through the bedroom window would follow me down the whole block on Center St. anytime I left for class or work. Though despite all this, what I appreciate the most about Caine is that he reminded me to stop and smell the roses. Literally.

Originally our coffee runs started with the seldom warm days we had through winter, just as a treat or a quick little mental release. The proximity of the Huckleberry Trail to the apartment served like the “Yellow Brick Road” to the Starbucks at Kent Square. Overtime, it became pretty apparent I needed the mental release and he needed the walks, as we slowly cooperated with one another to get a steady schedule.

As I picked up more and more shifts at McComas, our coffee runs became almost a daily occurrence. Caine handled me leaving much better if he was tired. At first I felt bad for spending money on coffee, but it was the simplest way to treat myself, and some days it was the only time I had to be able to walk him. Caine sure didn’t mind the adventures. Actually, he expected it.

Many mornings I would catch him pouting in the corner of the room like he just lost his best friend until we left. The mornings he wasn’t as patient included nudging me with his nose to show me were my shoes were. Anytime I grabbed my coat, he would almost jump through the roof. He’s pretty dramatic.

In many ways, the coffee runs were how I learned to make my way around campus. I don’t know if it was the coffee that energized me or the positive vibes from Caine’s grin as he looked up at me as we shuffled through campus. Caine’s smile was contagious with everyone we met.

Another thing that was contagious was his white-tipped nose after devouring a “Puppachino” from Starbucks. He became so accustomed to it, he assumed everyone who left with a beverage in their hand had something for him, poking them gently or raising his bear-size paw to them as they walked passed. Eventually I stopped giving him the “Puppachinos” because the baristas would race one another to give it to him first. Many occasions, Caine got served his beverage before I did!

Though the coffee always tasted the same, the days never were. Some coffee runs included the glow of the sunrise. We would take the long way on purpose sometimes, then other trips we sprinted through the cold. Some days were pleasantly warm, while other days my coffee was cold before we even got back to the apartment. We learned short cuts in the process and met many new people, like out-of-state freshmen, graduating seniors, Corp of Cadets, and dropped by many Greek Life philanthropy events. The school is so large, it was seldom we ever ran into the same person twice.

It became pretty apparent: Caine has super powers. He cheered students up who were homesick and he made people’s shifts go by faster when we dropped by for surprise visits. Unless if we left early, we were stopped often. People took selfies with him and strangers hugged him. We saw it all, it seemed. We left paw prints in the snow and then had dew drops on our whiskers after the spring flowers blossomed. We literally saw the campus come back to life.

One day I’ll look back at these past few months and be very proud of my attitude and the growth I experienced in relatively such a short time. As well, everyone likes a happy ending.  Everything fell into place and the hard work payed off. The struggles of your past have such a dim glow, in comparison to the brightness of your future. And the days ahead sure seem bright.

The other night after class, the evening was just too nice to not be outside. I gathered up Caine and we went on a spontaneous stroll through campus, stopping to get dinner in the process. Our shadows showed from the moonlight on the Huckleberry Trail, people played guitars on the streets, and the breeze carried a combination of laughter and warmth. After getting food, Caine and I sat down with full intentions of enjoying the peaceful evening and eating alone. But Blacksburg didn’t let that happen. As various people passed by, some offered just a brief hello, others were overly eager to pet Caine. As I watched, I noticed how comforting it was to see whatever love I can’t give Caine, he gets from the community…

...the same amount of love I hope to give back myself.