This story was written about a year ago after I had met with a little girl who had a service dog named Rudy. She said that having him around was amazing and made her feel more confident in herself every day. When I was speaking with her, she had mentioned that her family members weren’t always supportive of her or each other, so having the dog around seemed to bring a light back into the family. After hearing about her story, I went home and wrote my own short story about a service dog. I wanted to write this story to show that the dogs help out in so many ways that we may not see ourselves.

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For years, I wanted a best friend. I dreamt about playing ball and chasing each other through the mud as the rain kept piling on top of our already wet clothes. I dreamt about us...just the two of us. Nobody else. Just us.

I wanted to speak to them about my struggle, but my body would shut down as if it forgot how to function. My bones would sink further into the stained-brown floorboards. No words would be released.

I did not want to face the never-ending flames that Sir would produce if nothing went his way. I always saw a woman with Sir, but I never knew her. She was just a figure that lived in this place with Sir and I. My urges were pushing me to speak with her, but I was told to never talk to strangers. Sir would erupt. and I tried to avoid that at all costs.

Sir constantly told me of a school where he had studied and how he wanted me to continue the family legacy. I had never heard of this legacy, nor did I know this family. There were many nights where I could not leave my cell. All I could do was study, study, study. I cannot remember the last time I could lie down on my new, clean bedsheets. Now it just sits there, collecting dust each day.

I did not have time to talk to anyone, before or after the school bell rang. I could recognize all of their faces, but I knew no names. Even when we all went to recharge ourselves during lunch, I could not. I studied. I studied in a tight, airless cage. After the final ring, I slumped all the way back and headed to my room. Then I would repeat this, each and every day.

I just wanted a best friend. Someone that I could talk to and get lost in time. Someone who could bring down my cell walls and take me away. But, they never came.

As I matured and grew stronger, my mind and I made the agreement. We softly marched to Sir and the woman. I demanded my freedom from their clutches. The woman seemed to smile, though I do not know why. Her hair was tangled and her face was red. She looked as if she was in pain, but a light was beaming through that smile.

Sir darkened. His eyes became narrow and his mighty boom filled the prison. I was frightened, but I did not sink. I grabbed my bag and headed to my exit as Sir’s grip felt tight on my arm. I used my hidden strength to yank him off me, but he did not take that lightly. Something dark and long struck me on my right side, and I tumbled and tumbled down the long staircase to the bottom floor.

After the eruption ended, I was not the same. I was told by a man with glasses that I would never be the same again. He was right. I did not fear Sir, I did not wince at the sight of him, I did not sink anymore. All I could do was sit in a rolling chair. My legs could not move, my hips were stiff as could be. I was not worried. I was free. I was alive. I finally had someone. They helped me open doors, grab my food and keep me company. He loves it when I scratch his ear. His tail wags, which makes me smile.

I finally got my best friend.

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Just because someone has a service dog does not mean that they are not incredible human beings. The girl I talked with was so intelligent for her age and knew what she wanted to do in her life. It made me feel so happy knowing that she can live a strong life because of her service dog. So, if you ask and stop to pet a service dog, take some time to talk with the owner. They are some of the nicest people out there and can really make our day and their day, as well.