A series of high-pitched yaps echo through the Graphic Arts building (Building 26-A), followed by the soft pitter patters of delicately groomed nails tapping against the teal tile. Ears pinned high, listening for the unsuspecting footsteps of students pushing through the third floor, rests a familiar face in the corner office of the radio station.
Hidden amongst the shelves on shelves of seven-to-12-inch vinyl and behind the ladder that students climb in search of unique music to play live sits three pounds of all bark and no bite. Be careful where you step; you might accidentally land your foot in a tiny pile of dog poop.
Pebble is many things: a diva, a fixture across the radio station, a force to be reckoned with or just another chihuahua to any bystander passing by. Her coat is blacker than coal, with accents of tan fur throughout her nose to the top of her bug-like eyes and around the outline of her ears that are too big for her head.
Often accessorized with a pink harness and dressed in only the utmost attire to accommodate her princess-like status, she’s been known to wreak a little havoc, often barking at students as a demand for attention. One thing is for certain: she is a beloved member of the KCPR family and has made her presence known throughout the journalism department.
Before Pebble came to be, there was a predecessor, Trinket, who lived to be almost 15 years old.
“At first I thought I wouldn’t get another one and life would be more simple. I would have no obligation to a pet,” KCPR faculty advisor and Pebble’s owner Patti Piburn said.
She knew no other pet could replace her, yet, “I just felt like this empty space that I wanted to fill with another tiny dog,” she said while Pebble reached with her quarter-sized paws for the stray plastic bag on Piburn’s desk that once held miniature cubed carrots.
“I’m very, very particular. She was above the charts particular,” Piburn said, referring to the dog’s previous owner who wanted to find the perfect home for her.
After a lot of back-and-forth conversing, Piburn eventually convinced her that “City Girl,” Pebble’s original name, would be going to the right family.
“When I saw her, even though she is so similar in appearance [to Trinket], I was like, ‘this is the dog I want to get,’” Piburn said, while Pebble curled into her arms. “It was good for me and I think good for KCPR.”
They have been a dynamic duo for almost two years now, giving Pebble the chance to impact the lives of the Cal Poly students who interact with her. Some have even developed special bonds with the dog.
Waking up to a text from Patti Piburn, public health sophomore and KCPR DJ Lulu David skipped down from her Poly Canyon Village (PCV) apartment to spend quality time with “the most microscopic little pookie ever.”
“I get super stressed out and it’s nice to have an animal on campus, like a little angel, or just sometimes I feel like hanging out with her really calms me down,” David said.
There has been significant research on the effects of therapy-based dogs on college campuses when it comes to students’ anxiety and mood levels or even test scores. One study provided by the National Library of Medicine measured the effects of interacting with campus-based therapy dogs on student exam scores. The results from the study demonstrated a more positive effect on test scores with students who interacted with the dogs compared to students who did not.
Pebble is not a registered therapy dog, but is a consistent presence within the station and is constantly being swooped into the arms of the DJs and other staff.
David is well versed in all things Pebble, down to her favorite snacks, from the cubed carrots stored in ziplock bags to chicken hearts.
However, not all students feel as strong of a connection with Pebble.
“I avoid Pebble every time I see her,” Catherine Allen, previous editor-in-chief of Mustang News, jokingly said.
Yet, David describes Pebble as “a very sweet dog” yet “definitely a scaredy cat,” as she is often snarling at unfamiliar faces. Her timid tendency seems to be proven true, barking every time the office door closes too loudly or students move too quickly around the studio.
Additionally, according to David, Pebble has an even stronger connection with Piburn’s children.
“Whenever Patti calls her kids, [Pebble] gets all excited and throws … not a temper tantrum, whatever the positive form of that is,” David said.
If she isn’t busy ruling over her domain, commonly known as the broadcast studios, she can be found tucked away in the crevices of Piburn’s purse. Pebble has ventured to many journalism-related outings.
The most recent one was the Associated Collegiate Press (ACP) conference, hosted in mid-March in San Diego, where her snores were heard echoing throughout a presentation on “AI in Journalism” and the audience pretended not to notice.
Over the course of the conference, Pebble hid in the hotel bathroom of Mustang Media Group’s General Manager, Jon Schlitt, due to a strict policy forbidding animals in Piburn’s hotel. He jokingly complained to Piburn about Pebble preventing him from being able to shower.
“My relationship with Pebble has kind of been an evolving one,” Schlitt said.
He said it grew from feeding her little carrot bites to giving high fives and now little pats on the head. He describes her as feisty, opinionated and territorial. KCPR is Pebble’s domain and she is there to protect it.
Pebble is just as excited to see the students as they are to see her, Piburn said.
“I think she is very excited to be here. When she knows we’re coming to school, if she thinks I’m getting ready, she hops into the carrier that I bring her in, in the car, and she waits and she watches me get my keys or my bag, and is like, ‘you’re not leaving without me,’” she said.
As Pebble wraps up her day of barking at students and being carried around, she crawls into her pink-accented carrier, venturing home with Piburn and preparing for another day of entertaining all who walk through the Graphic Arts building.
