When I was in third grade I began my campaign to get a dog. I begged my parents every day, I made flyers and sticky notes with fun dog facts and the benefits to getting a dog. I even changed the channel to the Puppy Bowl while my dad was watching the Super Bowl. I tried everything imaginable to convince my parents to let me get a dog, after a year of campaigning my parents finally decided to let me get a pet. My mom tried to convince me to get something smaller, with less responsibility like a lizard or a bird. But that wasn’t going to work. So finally they agreed to let me get a dog. We started looking around at the local shelters. I found several adorable dogs that I liked, but they weren’t the one.

The third place we looked was the Humane Society. We walked into the room with all the kennels and the room erupted with barking. All of the dogs in the room ran to the front of their kennels to be seen, except one. At first, I thought that kennel was empty until I saw the fuzzy little brown dog curled up in the back corner. All the commotion was causing her to shake and I knew I had to get her out of there. I stayed with her telling her that everything was okay. Meanwhile, my parents were walking around the kennels looking at all of the other animals to choose from. They kept trying to convince me to look at another dog, but I had my heart set. I had found the one.

The fuzzy little dog soon became my best friend. Once we brought her home, my mom laid down the rules. She was not allowed on the furniture, she wasn’t allowed to eat people food, and she had to sleep in her kennel at night. My dad and I quickly broke every single rule. Pretty soon Fuzzy started sleeping in my bed, on the pillow right next to mine. She also started to come out of her shell. For the first few weeks, she had been very timid, but when she got comfortable with our family she revealed her personality. She was an attention loving diva. I spent every minute I could showering her with love and attention, which quickly made me her favorite.

Over the next few years my life would change drastically. In middle school, my self-image dropped lower and lower every day. I became depressed and felt completely alone, except for when I was with Fuzzy. When I came home from school she was always excited to see me. She didn’t care what I looked like, or what anyone else said about me. I was home and I was her family, and that was all that mattered. When I was with her, these things stopped mattering to me too. She was my savior during this time in my life, and she would continue to get me through every hard time I have faced. The depression came back several times throughout high school. Each time Fuzzy was there to comfort me. She was there the lick the tears away from my face and snuggle up to me while I cried. She was there trying to cheer me up when I needed to smile.

Fortunately, the bad times didn’t last forever and she was still there to brighten my day. She was a constant source of love and entertainment. She loves to be seen and heard, and will make sure she gets the attention she deserves. She gets excited every time someone walks in the door, even if they aren’t part of the family. Except for people who smell. If your scent is too strong for her, she will not trust you. She is also obsessed with breakfast food and will lose her mind if someone doesn’t share with her.

When it came time to leave for college I was excited about getting a new start. I had fallen in love with the University I was going to and was looking forward to independence. Until I remembered that I couldn’t take Fuzzy with me. Leaving her behind was the hardest part of going to school. I took so many pictures and videos of her before I left for the days I would be missing her. When it came to decorating my dorm room, I hung up more pictures with my dog in it than my parents. Fuzzy didn’t take the separation too well either. She got angry and decided to punish my family for letting me leave by leaving “gifts” by the front door every morning. After a few weeks of being at school, I went home to visit my best friend. She was in the backyard when I got home, and when she came back inside I was waiting in the kitchen for her. As soon as she saw me she starting running around me and whining, licking me in the face when she could. This was the reaction I would get whenever I came home to visit until she got used to the fact that I would always come back.

Even though I am not with her now, I think about her every day. I still have pictures of her to look at when I’m sad and I know that if I need her she’s right at home waiting for me. When I feel like I don’t matter, I remember that I matter to her. All the hard work convincing my parents paid off because Fuzzy was the best gift I ever received.