"Everyone thinks they have the best dog. And none of them are wrong." W.R. Purche
Meet Scout. We've been pals for about six months, now. In fact, she was given to me as a gift. She's a horrible guard dog. She runs and hides behind me when she's startled by hearing someone laughing outside. She tears the soles out of my shoes and shreds them across the floor. She chases geese while I'm calling her, and she has these monstrous fluffy paws that smell faintly of Frito's corn chips. (You notice it most when she's clumsily stomping over you to find her favorite spot on the bed.) She's a mess. But she's exactly what I needed.
You see, Scout was given to me, but for a special reason. I was introduced to this goofy fur ball about a month after I was released from rehab. I had been admitted over the Christmas holidays, and spent a week there receiving treatment for anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts. I was in a dark place, and had been for some time, but I was striving to recover and heal. Luckily, I had a partner to help get me through it.
Studies have proven that dogs are capable of triggering behaviors and emotions that combat depression and anxiety. They lower our blood pressure, provide us with affection, serve as distractions, and invoke a sense of responsibility within ourselves. So, Scout wasn't just another pet. She was, ultimately, a form of therapy.
You see, Scout doesn't believe in personal space. Wherever I am, there she has to be also. She's close when I need reassurance and affection. She's my sense of responsibility. On many mornings, she was my motivation to get out of bed. Even if I didn't feel like going out, I knew I owed it to her and I pushed myself. She was a gateway to once again begin interacting and socializing with my peers. Because of her, I went from taking Xanax almost daily to not needing to refill my prescription for months at a time. She's helped me grow and heal and I am so thankful for that. I'm thankful for her.
This dog brings joy to my life, as I'm sure your pets bring joy to yours. I know she won't be around forever, but she is right now. Every 52 days is a year in a dog's life. I plan to make those days count. We all should. Steal hugs. Give treats. Take that five- minute walk you don't think your schedule can afford. (It can, I promise you.) They deserve it.
She's not just a dog. They become family. As Dean Koontz once stated, "Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one is diminished." I'm thankful for Scout, and the vibrancy she has placed in my life, once again.
