As I drive down the parkway on the weekends I go home, I often spot vehicles sporting a bumper sticker that reads, "Who rescued who?" on their back windshield. As a dog owner, I found trouble understanding what this common phrase meant for a very long time.

Don't get me wrong; I have loved each and every dog that I have ever had unconditionally and with all of my heart. My late golden retriever, Jax, was a sweetheart and giant love bug to my entire family. I would call my late cockapoo, Kelsey, an angel for the constant affection that she gave to everyone around her.

While they were alive, I was in middle and high school, involved in a tight-knit friend group and a member of every club I could join. I committed to Villanova, my dream school, and I felt on top of the world. Things were going so well for me that I couldn't find room to complain or be "rescued." It wasn't until I went to college that I felt the pressure of living in a new environment, living almost two hours away from my friends and family.

For the first few weeks, I struggled to feel comfortable at school. I found myself encountering every problem that freshmen tend to run into. I was so homesick for the first few weeks that I would beg my family to pick me up on the weekends. I struggled with the increase in course load that comes with the transition from high school to college. I couldn't find any clubs that I was interested in, so I isolated myself and focused solely on getting my work done.

This led me to have trouble making friends and finding people to han gout with. Kelsey had also passed away days before moving in, adding to my low and dejected spirit. It became difficult for me to leave my dorm room for anything but classes and food.

A few weeks into September, my family was looking for a new dog. We didn't see it as looking for a replacement for Kelsey; rather, we saw it as an opportunity to give all of our love and attention to another animal that needed it.

My mom and brother found a four-month-old golden doodle with a background that broke our hearts: Brody, what we soon named him, was recently found abused in a barn in Mississippi. He and his siblings were saved and brought to New Jersey to find a real home.

It was difficult for my family to see any signs of distress in him from the event; a photo taken by my mom showed him to be one happy pup, smiling and taking in the attention he got from those around him. She didn't hesitate to tell his foster owner that we wanted him, and days later, my mom picked up.

When I got the news that he was officially ours, I couldn't wait for my dad to pick me up to go see him in person. But before this day could come, my mom made it aware to me that Brody was a little terrified in his new environment at my house. He wouldn't come to my mom when she called him, staying isolated in the corner of my family room.

He was petrified at car rides, shaking in his nonexistent boots in the back seat. And when my mom tried to put him on a leash, he tensed up and refused to walk with her around the park. It became suddenly evident that Brody was seriously hurt by his first owners, and we were heartbroken that someone could have the audacity to harm such an endearing, charming pup.

Yet when I first saw the little angel, I didn't see an ounce of this behavior. It has seemed like he was becoming more comfortable with his surroundings, as I was met with the most love and affection since Kelsey was in my life.

Once I picked up the little guy, all of the stress I've accumulated at school went away for a while. I didn't think about my intense workload or not being involved or not having many friends.

The only thing I could focus on at that moment was the hugs I received (yes, he really gives hugs), the wet kisses I felt on my cheeks and just the presence of such a bright light in my life. It didn't take long for Brody and I to grow a bond that would help me get through the troubles of school and make me become the improved person I am today.

It was in these moments of togetherness with Brody over the first few months of my freshman year that helped me become happier.

From the times we played at the park together to when he wanted to cuddle while watching the Housewives, I felt a sense of comfort and positivity that few people can try to bring out in me. The contentment he brought in his playfulness, kindness, and solace helped me become a lighthearted person, which ultimately drove me out of my depressive state and gave me the confidence to tackle the problems I faced at school. His presence in my life paved the way for a friendship between us that I wouldn't trade for anything.

For these reasons, I have grown to understand why dogs can rescue us. Before college, I didn't need much rescuing; I only found comfort in knowing that I rescued some pups and gave them the loving environment they deserved. But things happen for a reason, and I have grown to find that in this situation, rescuing can work both ways.

Brody and I both needed to be rescued to find peace and happiness in our lives. I was happy that we rescued Brody from the terrible conditions he was living in, but with the state I was in at school, deep down, I needed some rescuing, too.

When my mom went to pick up Brody from his foster owner, she wasn't aware that she would come back with a soon-to-be formation of a friendship that would kindle a positive alteration in more than just one life. In these ways, with the unconditional love from my dog, I can finally say that I have been rescued as well.