These days the black dog in my life has a positive effect. That's because he is not a proverbial representive of depression or dark thoughts, "Angelo," is a ninety pound bundle of warm fuzzy. My Rotweiller/Border Collie Cross.
Whoever said pets were beneficial to mental health made an understatement. They are softness in a harsh world-depending on your choice of critter ofcourse; a plush toy with a heartbeat for all ages.
Angelo takes me for walks several times a day and I appreciate it. Excercise is mood boosting also and thanks to him I get out more now instead of falling prey to the lure of inactivity linked to depression.
While out on these walks my canine companion pulls me forward like a tugboat, interrupting himself to stop and smell the many items that intrigue him; not just the roses. His enthusiastic curiousity for the little details and excitement for each walk and car ride lend happiness to my emotional challenges. I told my spouse;" Angelo is my joy prosthetic."
Hence I want to be a dog when I grow up, wagging my entire body with cheer and good energy over the forgotten details of life that bring pleasure and comfort. I actually tried once when no one was looking, a feat that proved to be a hilarious failure and nearly resulted in injury.
Even as I write, my four legged fur-end lays beside me snoring slightly, leaving my spouse wondering why his own night noise gets eviction.
"The more I deal with people the more I like animals," I heard quoted once. And I agree. The love, loyalty and adoration Angelo has brought to my world rivals most relationships I have had.
Shhh. Don't tell my husband.
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