Life WD (With Dog)

That first bit was all a bit dark and serious, wasn’t it? Sorry about that. I just wanted to convey how well and truly fucked I was, no hope, and on a path to certain death, so that you can see what one tiny 4-legged soul mate can do in an instant.

Now convention here would be to get a dog that got me out the house. A good active sporting breed or herding breed. A dog that needed walking all day so I would get back into exercise, get those endorphins pumping, and on the road to recovery.

Nope. Not a chance. I decided to get one of the most useless dogs on Earth (I say this with affection – every insult I ever give a dog is said truly with love. If it’s about a human, well then, it’s because they are an utter moron). I got myself tiny Cavalier King Charles Spaniel puppy, and I called him Frank.

I have never fully understood why I so quickly decided to get a dog when I was in such a dark place. But just as my brain had an epiphany regarding suicide, it had the same lightbulb moment and knew that I had to get a dog.

Tiny Frank came into our home and instantly, without even time to think about it, my thoughts were no longer solely focused on how truly terrible my life was. I now spent at least 99% of my waking day thinking about Frank, being with Frank, cuddling Frank, and deciding how I was going to train Frank.

At this point in my life, I should note that I was not working with dogs.

Frank shifted my focus in a way none of the medical professionals around me could. Every time I went to therapy we spoke about the problems, focused on the problems, tried to figure out graded exposure to the problems – the problem with all of this and mental health treatment is that you are still constantly thinking about the problem, and often this focus means you will never change your mindset.

Having a dog though put my thoughts and emotions elsewhere – and not in an avoidance way. I was focusing my energy on a living being, one who loves unconditionally, reads your emotions without any talking therapy, and knows exactly when to be quiet and cuddle.

And here lies the first lesson of dog therapy – a dog can smell every hormone inside your body, and is an expert at reading your body language. This is why you should always be calm around a dog, and spend as much time on your body position and hand signals as you should your verbal commands when training.

So, you’re depressed, spent years in a dark whole, surrounded by people who want to keep talking about it. Along comes this little guy who can perfectly sense everything you are feeling, and acts in the perfect way to comfort you without saying a fucking word – I wish every therapist on Earth would take a leaf out of the dog’s book here.

Frank gave me the comfort I needed without reminding me of why I needed it. And he gave me something to do, someone to care for, and a reason to get out of the house.

I think going to the vets with Frank for his vaccinations was my first genuine human interaction which didn’t involve my mental health in around 2 years. I spoke to a very kind nurse, who cooed all over Frank, gave him his injections, and gave me advice on what I should be doing with him for feeding, walks, training etc. An actual human interaction, it felt odd, and it made me realise that maybe I could do it again.