To me, someone who suffers with a dash of major depression, a sprinkle of borderline personality disorder, and a smidgen of acquired brain injury, my two dogs are major anchors in my battle with mental illness. If it wasn't for these two balls of fur, there are days I would never get off my couch. The fact that their internal timers go off every three to four hours (more often if the sun is out), keeps me from curling up into a ball and sealing myself away from the world. Sure, on days when I am in a dark abyss of depression and moody as all get out, I can get quite testy with them. I have never raised my hand to them, but a low guttural growl can get both dogs out of my face. Generally after one of these outbursts I start feeling guilty and realize these little guys did not deserve that attitude. This realization typically gets the dogs outside for a walk, thus getting me off the couch.
My older dog, Boots, has been part of my life since he was 5 weeks old. Now at thirteen, Boots has learned over the years when I need him near me and when I am okay. Boots came into my life during a period when I was battling suicidal depression. Not having a significant other or children to care about, Boots became my "someone". Someone to do things with, to talk to, and most of all, focus on. By focusing of Boots, his needs and care, I was able to slowly stop focusing on myself and how miserable I was. Boots became a distraction from my twisted thinking pattern. It took almost six months, but with Boot's help, I was able to stop my suicidal behavior and decrease the duration of my depressive episodes. I call Boots "my little lifesaver" because I believe he saved my life. The road I was traveling on before Boots did not have a positive outcome. I was in and out of hospitals, on a first name basis with the crisis line, and actively searching for ways to end my life. It was a dark road.
My younger dog, Peanut, became part of our family in 2008. Peanut is a rescue and was abused. I am Peanuts third home. After being rescued from the abuser, Peanut ended up in a family with three big dogs. Being a toy chihuahua, Peanut was out-sized and soon out sourced to me. Peanut's tactics for getting me off the couch for a walk is quite manipulative. Where Boots will just sit in my line of sight and stare at me, Peanut will actually get in my lap. Flipping on his back and giving me kisses, Peanut breaks down my negative attitude until I am laughing. I believe Peanut came into my life to help me realize when I am acting angry. Peanut does not react well to angry voices, angry actions, and swearing. Since Peanut gets scared and will shrink off into another room, over the years I have been able to modify my behavior so Peanut is not scared. Laughing when I am mad and curbing my use of profanity are two of the biggest changes I have made. Behavior modification has not been easy, but I will make changes for my dogs.
