I am a writer.
No, not a published or paid writer. And honestly, maybe not even a good writer.
What I mean is that whenever I get moved to an extreme emotion, I like to write about it. I like to put my words on paper (or the computer) and reread over and over again the feelings that I felt and relive in the energy that I felt as I wrote.
It's therapeutic.
Your questions: What emotion are you feeling and to what do you credit that feeling?
My answer: Happy and my dog.
Yes, you are about to read a post about my dog.
If you know me personally, you know that I have two dogs and you are eagerly awaiting for me to say the name of which dog. Most of you will assume that the mentioned dog is my favorite. But that is just not true. I love both of my furry babies equally and they each have a special place in my heart.
But as I sit here on the couch, watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S, and enjoying my fall break, my sweet Nash crawls up to join me. He doesn't lay down, though. Instead, he sits. Facing me. Creepily looking through my eyes and into my soul. A small amount of drool escaping his jowls. Impatiently waiting for me to know what the hell he wants.
And I smile.
A smile that only Nash can pull from me.
A smile that didn't exist until the day I bought Nash. (Yes, I bought him. But in my mind, I was rescuing him from a household that would not love him as much as I. So, basically, he's a rescue dog). (Also, I am not trying to take anything away from people who have actually rescued their dogs. I think you guys are amazing people).
You see, nobody actually knows this, but Nash saved me.
3ish years ago I was in a dark place. I was in a less than awesome relationship that left me very broken and unhappy. I finally got the courage (and the brains) to leave said relationship, which started me on another dark, broken, and unhappy journey.
I hid it well. Nobody knew just how unhappy I was. I went out with my friends, I went on some vacations, a few dates here and there... you know, typical shit that a "happy" 25 year old does.
But inside, I was absolutely dying.
I lost myself in my previous relationship. I became the woman I thought he wanted me to be (which was just NOT me). And when we broke up, I had no idea who the hell I was. I was miserable.
I was worried about what everyone thought of me. I was overly critical of my appearance. I constantly questioned if I was a good teacher. I fought with my parents (who were so gracious to let me move back home for the 90th time, free of charge).
I even stopped praying and having conversations with God.
It was dark, I'll tell ya.
My first ray of sunshine came to me in the form of a Facebook message from a woman that my ex and I had previously purchase a dog.
"Hi! We hope you are loving your pup that you got from us last year. We currently have a few pups left from our most recent litter that we are having a hard time finding a home for. Would you be interested in looking at another one, at a discounted price?"
Uhhh... yeah.
After begging my parents (their house, their rules) they agreed to let me get a pup. I like to believe that they had picked up on my unhappiness and decided that a dog would at least give me something to focus on.
Arrangements were made. That weekend, my friend and I would meet this lady halfway in the middle of nowhere to make the exchange: my money for her dog. She was bringing 3 males with her, and I would get my pick of whichever one I wanted.
Oh great. I thought. How the hell am I going to be able to choose between 3 adorable puppies.
Turns out, very easily.
As the woman opened the back of her jeep, in slow motion might I add, the sun began shining in my life, again.
There he was. The droopiest, dopiest, cutest, little big headed boy I had ever seen. His brothers were quite excited; jumping around trying to get out of the cage by crawling on one another. Not this guy. He sat there patiently, head jolting back and forth with each collision from the fur balls he'd been trapped with for the previous two hours.
His side eye was to die for. How could a dog have that much personality?
I told her, "That one," as I pointed to the one with the yellow eyes.
"You sure? You don't want to play with them to see which one you'll get along with best?"
I was sure.
Best decision I've ever made.
My life did an immediate 180. I was all of a sudden excited to be alive EVERY DAY. I couldn't wait to get home after school to see that little pup (I may or may not have snuck him into school on the first day because I couldn't leave him). I even snagged a date with the man of my dreams all because I showed him a picture of Nash (the date turned into a relationship, and we're still together).
Nash saved me.
This little pup showed me a love so strong that I was forced to be grateful for it. This pup needed me, and I needed him. And together, we've made this world our bitch.
That was dramatic.
But seriously, he made my heart feel happy again.
I thank God everyday for so many things, but I always begin with my Nash.
And right now, as I sit here, puppies at my feet, I tear up a little because I couldn't be happier for the life I have.
And Nasher B, it all started with you. <3
