It’s three am, I have woken up from yet another nightmare. I’m drenched in sweat, I’m crying, and I’m lonely as hell.
I cannot remember what it feels like to have a human being see me through this kind of night anymore. Turns out I was lonely long before I was alone, but that’s a different story.
Then a head falls into the crook of my elbow, and another settles on my stomach, and a heavy sigh rolls out. The love of dogs is eternal and unwavering. I understand, now more than ever, that there is no human capable of this kind of love. These two dogs, legally, were never mine, but I have found out that they are mine in soul.
He brought them back to me because they were pining, howling, crying for me just as much as I was for them.
The love of dogs is brutal, its crushing, and it’s a foundation on which you can build your life again, I have found out.
They don’t care if I’m fat or thin, they don’t care that I have stretch marks and scars, and they don’t take it personally if I hurt myself. They don’t take my illness personally, and you may be surprised just how many human beings do. It’s an affront to some people to accept that someone who functions, who is educated, who is intelligent can break entirely and have no capability to fix it because it reminds them that it could happen to them. The dogs understand in a deep, animal way that I need them as much as they need me. We take care of each other, and what they give me is so much more valuable and important than anything I could ever give them;
The comfort of their breathing in the night is a balm for the soul. Its not human contact, it’s not a hug, it’s not a kiss, it’s not the feeling of being wanted; it’s so much more important that all of that. It’s the understanding that you can make a difference so huge that it encompasses a world every single day.
If I am cruel to myself. If I refuse to get up, if I refuse to try to function they suffer; I must walk them, I must feed them, I must show them love even if it is the only thing I do in a full day. Sometimes it is.
They save me from total madness and total self-hate; I have come to realise that I am a better person than I thought. I do these things without fail because I love them, and that makes me like myself even when I can barely lift my head and I haven’t washed in days. When I started this blog I didn’t expect it to get much in the way of attention; I needed the release.
Now people follow it, I have no fucking idea why. So you, if you’re out there and you give a shit about what I have to say for some weird reason. If you think that it relates to you, or if you just pity me; be kind to the dogs in your life, help dogs in need if you can, and throw a dollar, pound, or peso (whatever it is, wherever you are) at a charity that helps animals, dogs in particular, greyhounds and lurchers especially, and I’ll count my life, and this blog, a success.
Here’s a list of charities you might like to consider;