If it would not have been for Smarty, my beloved emotional support animal, I do not think I would have been alive today.
I have always wanted a dog, since I was a little girl. My dad would always reply, “When you grow up and move out – you can have as many dogs as you want to." Even if I always wanted a dog, I never wanted to get one before I was settled down, had a decent economy and a safe place for my dog to grow up and live. After I was raped, I thought more and more about getting a dog. I never heard about emotional support animals or service animals before I moved to the United States. The more I read, the more I convinced myself that a dog could help me live better as a victim dealing with depression, anxiety and PTSD.
One beautiful sunny day in March, a close friend of mine brought me to the local shelter. One thing I knew was that I would rather save a dog’s life than getting a puppy. I found a black Labrador that I really liked, but I still needed to finish some paperwork with housing, because I live on campus. The day after, I went back to get the black lab, because I felt secure about that the paperwork would work out. The black lab was gone. I was really upset, because I had already started to imagine my future with him, and even bought him a dark blue collar and a leash. It was a Friday, and the upcoming week was spring break. Most students would travel home to stay with their families, and I thought it was an excellent time for a new dog to get to know the campus and me. I asked to look at more dogs. I walked down the hall of adoption-ready dogs, and in the end of the hall sat Smarty. He was so quiet and cute. I spent the whole morning with him, and decided I was going to take him home. Why I chose Smarty or Marty as he was named was because I felt like we could relate to each other. He seemed a little crazy, not too well-disciplined, having a hard time trusting people by coming up to them and respond to commands. He was house-trained and could sit and lay down. I took the chance and brought him home with me.
I thought he was going to be a lot of work, but since we could relate to each other’s state of minds I thought it would be worth it. Once I brought him home, he was not as much work as I had thought, and he actually knew more tricks than the shelter told me and knew about. Smarty had been at the shelter for five months. Before he came to the shelter he was a stray. His earlier life we not know anything about. He is about two or 3-years-old. I believe he will be turning three this year, but he doesn’t have a birthday.
Some people thought I was getting a dog because I was scared and wanted protection. Why I got Smarty was because I needed someone who always would be at home to support and love me. In some stages of my depression I do struggle with getting up from bed in the morning, something that is not like me at all. Smarty gave me a reason to get up, and now he even knows how to help me get up if it is a though day. He will jump up in my bed, lie down close to me and pet me. That makes me happier, and it is easier to get up. Smarty also helps with my anxiety and PTSD. When we are outside we usually walk in his tempo, and he reminds me to breath and stop to take breaks. Usually I will forget breathing if it is really bad.
The sad part with an emotional support animal is that you are not allowed to bring them everywhere in public. As to the grocery store or to classes. Some of my teachers have been really understandable, and have seen how helpful Smarty is, so they have allowed me to bring him anyways. My goal is for him to be a service animal, which requires a lot of work and money unfortunately. Some people get shocked when I tell them that I bring Smarty to class, cause it does not seem like he would be appropriate enough. The truth is that he is the best class dog ever! He behaves exactly as a service animal and does not bother anyone, despite the curious souls among my peers.
We saved each other’s lives.
