Life has been up and down over the past year...mainly down. Things have been low and I have been struggling to get everything back on track.
Last week, I had an opportunity come my way. An odd one at that...
A friend told me that she found a dog for me. A dog?!? Me?!? Could I handle it?
I have wanted a dog for years and years and years. I grew up with a dog named Sandy. She was a beagle mix and a wonderful part of our family. But she was part of a big family - a mom, dad, brother, sister and me. Lots of people to help out. I wanted a dog, but never knew if I could handle the responsibility.
I work long hours, tend to be VERY spontaneous. Will jump in the car and take a 8 hour road trip if need be. When I get home from work I am so tired, I normally crash.
A dog - would change that...would it be for the worse or the best?
Georgie comes into my life. She is a 3 year old corgi. 100% corgi. Cute as a button. Sweet as pie and a snuggle bear.
This is how she got her name...at the shelter in Tennessee, where she was dropped off, the folks were calling her Sally. And the vet papers from her shots in Georgia, they called her Muffin. And I was thinking of naming her Abby. I went to pick her up, she had just gotten in from the long drive from Atlanta. She was in her crate, in the front seat of my car. I talked to her the whole way home. She didn't respond to Sally and didn't like Abby, but I noticed every time I said Georgia - she looked at me. When I said Georgie, her ears perked up and she seemed to smile at me. So, Georgie was her new name.
Having a new dog has been stressful. I have never had ANYONE be dependant on me and it has been different. There is this little creature, that I have to take care. This little life form that counts on me for food and protection. Here is little Georgie, waiting for me everyday when I get home. Waiting there for me - depending on me. Depending on me 100%. Odd.
Could I do it? The first few nights, it felt like I was just taking care of a dog for a friend (which I have done a lot). Then came in the thoughts of regret. What have I done? I am too selfish for a dog! I can't take care of myself, how am I suppose to take care of you? That night when I felt that ping of regret in my stomach, I cried. And I mean, I cried. Cried for hours. During my fit, Georgie was crewing her bone on the floor. She got up from the floor (I was on my bed laying on my stomach with my face buried in my pillow) and jumped on my bed. Next thing I know I feel this little head on my back. She was there. She was...taking care of me?
At that moment, the moment I felt the warmth of a tiny head laying on my back. I felt the soft breathing of her and could feel her body next time mine. I realized something.
I realized, that I didn't save her. She saved me. She saved me from the depression that I have been fighting. She saved me from myself. I realized that this little thing, this little dog - had saved me. She is something that I have to take care of...she is saving me, by just being there.
It hasn't been a breeze, but Georgie is a great dog. She is housebroken. She lets me know when she needs to go! She is funny, her favorite game is "bury the bone". She takes her bone and walks around the apartment looking for a place to "bury" it. Normally it is between the couch cushions. When she gets excited she does a "woof, woof, Hooowwwwwlll"...I want to play!
She is a great addition to my life, but has been a learning experience and I will keep learning. And I honestly believe that this little dog saved my life. As I saved hers.