Woman's Best Friend

Photo by Jonas Vincent on Unsplash


Within the past week, I came frighteningly close to saying “fuck it all” and becoming a recluse. I’d been fighting with my boyfriend and got into an argument with my best friend (because why piss off only one person, when you can piss off everyone close to you?!)

I sat in my house, all alone, thinking without these two people in my life, I would probably never go out. Then I thought fine. Maybe that’s for the best. I could just stay in my crappy little house with my cat and Netflix forever until I die. Then my cat would eat me.

Yeah, I get morbid, I know.

I worked through my problems and made up with the two people I’m closest to. All is well.

Then I decided to get a dog.

I’ve been thinking about it for months. I’ve always loved dogs and had a Jack Russell, Libby, that died tragically at age 14. She was my baby. She was with me through three marriages, countless illnesses & diagnoses, depression, and panic attacks.

I’m sure you’ve heard of pets being used as emotional support animals – it’s a trend that’s become quite popular. Dogs are so good for this. Libby was a wonderful support partner. When I was depressed or anxious and crying, she would always comfort me. My cat is all about the cuddles, but when I get upset she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. I think the sobbing startles her. 😅

The dog I am adopting is also a Jack Russell, and I’m absolutely elated. I’m told he’s very cuddly, and I really hope he’s as good at comforting me during mental health breakdowns as Libby was. 

My best friend pointed out that shortly after considering becoming a recluse, I decided to get an animal that will require me to go outside a lot. And it’s really stinking cute, so you know people will want to talk to me.

Maybe that was a subconscious decision. 😊

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