Naomi Girlfriend: rescuing

You know the shirts and stickers and whatever else that say "Who rescued who?"  It's cheesy, but it is really true.  Technically, I guess I rescued Naomi Girlfriend.  But unquestionably she has rescued me as much as, if not more than, I have rescued her.

The thing that finally made getting a dog a reality was a conversation with my psychiatrist about the possible therapeutic benefits of getting a dog.  He wrote a letter that day which is more or less (as I understand it) like a prescription for an "emotional support companion."  This letter describes that because my mental health conditions meet certain disabling criteria (or something like that), by law I have to be allowed to have an emotional support dog where I live- even if dogs aren't allowed.

[I would like to fully disclose that I have not done adequate research to know the technicalities of how that whole process works.  All I know is from my personal experience and the experiences of others I know in similar situations.]

In a very peculiar way, it seems that this letter was an answer to prayer... prayers I had been praying for more than a year- that somehow I would be able to get a dog.  The letter was written in the midst of a conversation where my psychiatrist was saying we don't really have more options, we have to start thinking outside of the box.  That's not a very hopeful conversation.  But getting a dog was something outside of the box, and I was eager to try it.  About 4-6 weeks later, I had a dog.  I'll write another post on the long-term hopes and goals for/with Naomi Girlfriend, but right now I want to just write about what the last 6 month with her have been like...

This dog continually saves my life.  I say that and I write it with streams of tears rolling down my face because it is so deeply true.  I don't know how to explain how she does it, but I don't think I'd be here today without her.

Less than 3 weeks after bringing Naomi home, I went back into the psych ward for 2 weeks.  There had come a point where suicide, in my mind, was inevitable.  I could continue to delay for however long, but sooner or later it would happen.  I've written enough on here about what it feels like to lose hope that I won't go into it now other than to "set the stage" for Naomi's entrance into my world.  It sounds a bit overly dramatic, and maybe it is, but to me she felt like my last chance at hope.

When I got out of the hospital, I didn't even know if she'd remember me.  My roommates had been taking care of her as long as I had prior to the hospital.  But I was greeted by an abundance of jumps and kisses.  Naomi and I quickly set to work on training.  It gave me something to focus on and fill my time with.  (And she definitely needed it.)  For a couple hours a day we trained.  For months progress seemed nominal at best.  But we kept working and we spent countless hours together.  Just in the past month or so, it seems like she has made tons of progress... all our hard work is finally paying off.  There aren't too many things that I feel like I am able to do right these days, but I know I do right by my dog.  Even though I am no expert on training dogs, I know that I am doing it well, somehow.  In most things, goals seem pointless and unattainable, but with Naomi I am setting and achieving goals.  I'm able to make commitments and see them through; even if some days all that entails is food in her dish, trips outside to do her business and minimal exercise.

I never have to be alone anymore.  Oftentimes people are a bit too much for me.  Just being around people stirs anxiety in me, and this is generally amplified when interaction is expected.  And at the same time, being alone can be a really hard thing for me.  I know the harm I am capable of causing myself, and when I am alone those temptations can be overwhelming, even consuming.  It has always been difficult to discern when I just need to be alone for awhile (a good thing) versus when I am withdrawing (a bad thing).  Naomi, though, provides a way to be alone without being alone.  I cannot describe how comforting her presence has been to me in the loneliest of moments, and how somehow it has kept me from making unwise choices.

Possibly the most amazing gift Naomi has given me is more consistent access to happiness than I think I have ever had before.  Pit bulls have these big ol' mouths on their big block heads, so when they pant it looks like they have the biggest, cheesiest smile.  I don't know if she's actually as happy as she looks in that moment, but when I look at her and see that big ol' smile, I feel happiness.  When she is running around, jumping, rolling- just being a dog- I notice myself smiling, because I actually feel happy simply because it seems like she is happy.

By no means is Naomi Girlfriend the best dog ever.  She is stubborn as hell, with this little mischievous side to her.  She isn't that smart.  She doesn't always listen.  Much of her cuteness is actually just that she kinda looks so goofy it is cute.  She is very quirky.  And, she is awesome.  She has absolutely changed my life, and saved my life.


And I want her to offer that to others as well...