🌸 The Story of SweetPea Itty-Bitty-Bom-Bom Rivera: A Journey of Healing, Hope, and a Whole Lot of Heart

SweetPea & Raquel

On February 5, 2025, SweetPea entered my life as a foster dog. Five minutes in, it was clear: this was a “foster fail” in the best way. From the moment our eyes met, we were bonded. There was no way I was letting her go, but my logical side said to “wait and see,” so I followed the plan to foster her and “decide” to adopt after her spay.

SweetPea, a tiny, soulful mystery mix—perhaps part Chihuahua, maybe Yorkie—arrived underweight, timid, and fragile. At just 6.8 pounds, her ribs were visible. In the months that followed, our journey together was filled with challenges and triumphs. In just five months, SweetPea faced 12 vet visits, two emergency overnights, an internal medicine consult with extensive testing, and even two professional dog massages for digestive support. And while her food sensitivities made nutrition tricky, we've found a rhythm: a precise prescription diet, home-baked treats crafted with care (and a tiny cookie cutter), and lots of patience.

SweetPea

Today, SweetPea weighs a healthy 7.9 pounds. She walks 2–3 miles a day, spins in joyful anticipation at the words “walk” or “car ride,” and has learned a growing vocabulary—including “store” and “park”—with impressive direction-sensing skills.

Her transformation has been extraordinary. Once shy and trembling, she now greets neighbors (and their dogs: shoutout to Raven, Lily, Nala, Snoopy, Meaty, and crew) with curious calm. SweetPea has even started initiating play—something that took months of trust-building. She’s now a known and adored figure in our Pasadena neighborhood, especially near the senior living towers where residents light up at the sight of her.

But it hasn’t all been smooth. SweetPea experiences isolation distress. While she’s grown more independent—no longer glued to my side during work hours—being left alone is still difficult for her. That’s why she’s now enrolled in Pasadena Humane’s “Brave Buddies” training, designed for small shy dogs. With this training, she’ll take her first steps toward becoming my Psychiatric Service Dog. As someone living with chronic PTSD, I’ve already witnessed her innate ability to soothe me during symptoms—and soon, with more training, she’ll refine that gift.

SweetPea isn’t just my first dog. She’s my first light after deep grief. On January 8, 2025, my beloved 18-year-old cat, Tootse, passed away while we evacuated from the Eaton Fire. The house felt achingly empty. My heart wasn’t ready for another cat, but it longed for love, connection, and purpose. SweetPea found me—through an Instagram message, rescue angels named Lesley and Cali, and a transport from the desert to Covina. I renamed her SweetPea because… well, she’s simply the tiniest, sweetest pea.

Now, she has over 30 toys, a growing fan base, and a starring role in a “Dog Mom of the SGV” photo shoot. People stop us in the street to comment on her striking heterochromatic eyes. She is magic in motion.

We still face obstacles—emotional and financial. Her vet bills have totaled over $15,000 within a few months, and pet insurance covered the maximum $10,000. (Helpful tip: I highly recommend unlimited coverage when eligible.)

But more than anything, SweetPea has brought joy, purpose, and partnership into my life. We were meant to find each other. We’re healing together. Flourishing together. And our story is still unfolding—one walk, one tail-nub wag, one paw-press at a time.

~ Written by SweetPea’s devoted adopter and forever mom, Raquel, who gave her the love she waited so long for.