Animal Therapy: My Personal Experience
By Nisha Mele (age 17)
We were always the family without a dog. Of course, my parents had very rational reasons for not giving in: our extensive traveling, our fancy wood paneled floors, our long days at work and school. Despite this, however, there was only one thing I wanted in the entire world. My parents tried to alleviate my desire for one of my own through animal shelter birthday parties, trips to animal sanctuaries around the world, spending time with others’ pets, and other amazing opportunities that shaped me and fueled my love of animals.
I started with a slide show, delineating every possible solution to every potential problem of having a dog. When that didn’t work, I reduced my longing expectations to a cat. Over the years, this “cat” that I begged for turned into a rabbit, chicken, guinea pig, rat, fish, and a bug. I just wanted a pet that I could call my own. My parents were so firmly against it, with our busy lifestyle and schedules, that I gave up. In my heart, despite all my complaining, I knew that it was probably for the best. That didn’t stop me from joking every Christmas that the only thing I truly wanted was a dog.
On the first day of 2024, we set out for my uncle’s house to make late Christmas cookies. When we arrived and sat down amongst a table of suspiciously happy faces, my mom stood up.
The rest of the hour was a blur through my tears as she brought out our new puppy, Suki.
I never thought that I would actually pinch myself, like the ditzy characters in movies do, but I was thoroughly convinced that I was dreaming. This moment must be no different than the countless other times that I had been dreaming about a dog.
But it wasn’t.
When I later told people that I got a dog, most generic reactions included “Oh, cool!” or “Aw, she’s cute!” Their nonchalance made me smile, because only a select few people knew how much this really meant to me. This puppy, this little animal, had been my only desire for as long as I could remember. And now she was sitting in my lap, looking a little frightened at all the noise. I had given up any hope of it actually happening, but it was. It was finally happening.
The first week was a big shift. Yes, it was hard to take care of a young puppy. Yes, it was slightly inconvenient to go outside in 20º weather at 5am to take care of her potty needs. Yes, it was kind of emotionally destructive to hear the poor baby whining in her kennel at night. Yes, it was frustrating when she decided that peeing indoors is the best way to go. But it was one of the best weeks of my life.
My life felt– and still feels– like a feverish dream. Every problem, every worry, every centimeter of anxiety is put into perspective. Whenever a moment happens that normally would have upset me, I am reminded of my puppy waiting for me at home, and her blissful happiness that rubs off on everyone around her. Whenever I start to feel overwhelmed, I go find Suki and give her a big hug. She understands. She feels the most pure form of love towards us. She never judges me, never yells at me, never makes me feel anything less than I am. When I need her, she’s there. When I’m upset, she’ll come sit with me and calm me down. When I’m around her, I feel like I’m my best self, one that is free of stress and worry over transient things. When she’s sitting with me, she is the only thing that matters– not my stress, not my tiredness, not my overwhelming workload. I am beyond grateful that I have my Suki, this little radiator of never-ending jubilation and peace.
I can feel her effects on my life. The amount of household arguing has been significantly reduced, and is more easily resolved. She is the thing we all have in common, and she is the thing that successfully ends our disagreements with her ball’s obnoxious squeaking and her innocent licks on our ankles. My screen time has been cut in half. I had already been working on spending less time on my phone, and had reduced it to two hours maximum every day. When we got our dog, however, two hours seemed like a lot. Suki is better than any phone. I throw her ball instead of swiping my finger through social media. I bop her on the nose instead of rapidly texting. I sit with her on the couch instead of with my phone. When I get home after school, the anticipation swarming in my veins, I see Suki’s wriggly joy and my stress– almost magically– evaporates. I can physically feel the tension leaving my body as she soaks my face with kisses. At that moment, I feel so purely happy and grateful for the beauty that this dog is bringing into my life. Of course, reality returns alongside my responsibilities, but the joy that I feel around her is worth it.
Most of all, she reminds me to live my life, and appreciate the small things.
One night that stands out to me was a freezing, windy school night. Before Suki, I would have stayed inside with a blanket and a book. With Suki, I had to go out.
As she frolicked around the grassy mound on our driveway, I just admired her little face and her curious expression. She sniffed the leaves as if they were the most fascinating thing on the planet. My neck was sore, and I crossed my arms impatiently as I waited for her to finish. She wasn’t done, however, so I took the time to roll out my neck… until I caught a full-on panorama of the sky. I stopped. I looked. Above me was the most beautiful array of shining stars that I had seen in several months. The shadows of the dark trees surrounding me against the deep blue of the night acted as a border to this picturesque image. I felt tiny and yet simultaneously full as I looked at our impressive planet. This view had been right above me all night and, in fact, was above me every night. Why had I never thought to go look at it?
I looked down at Suki looking up at me, and I silently said Thank you.
Suki has symbolically introduced me, not just to the stars, but to a new part of myself. A part capable of loving as freely as she does, and a part that is purely happy without any provisions. Ironically, I now can’t imagine my life without her. Her presence alone has brought our family closer, thrown our stress far away, and made life just that much better. Receiving my dog has been one of the greatest experiences of my entire, albeit short, life. I am filled with gratitude and love, even more than I already was, and I cannot recommend the therapeutic effects of getting a dog more.
