Love Well...

I have always been an anxious and depressed mess. On my first day of work as a teenager, I had such a horrific panic attack that I passed out, hit my head and woke up covered in deli meats. I was nervous about deli meats. Then I was depressed that I was nervous about deli meats. It’s a cycle that’s very hard to break. And I had done a pretty good job of handling it for the next 15 years. Until March 2020.

When Covid started, like everyone else, I had no idea what would happen. And because of that uncertainty, my anxiety and depression came bubbling to the surface. For months, I tried to get it under control. I was working from my bedroom and sleeping in my bedroom, so there was no longer a difference between home and work. It was hard to navigate, but I was finally able to do what my psychiatrist and therapist had been telling me to do for months – get a dog.

It took me months to find one. Everyone was scooping them up now that everybody had time. Finally, I got a call from a rescue just outside of Los Angeles that worked in conjunction with a shelter in Mexico. They had just received a group of new pups looking for their forever homes and thought there was one I would be interested in. The next day, I got in my car and drove the hour to the rescue to meet this little pup. We… did not click. I can’t even remember his name. He was anxious, uninterested in me, and I tried to get him to come out of his shell for the next hour, but it didn’t work. I knew deep down; he wasn’t the one. I told the rescue workers that I didn’t think we were a match and they explained they had another dog that I’d maybe like. I went to the bathroom and came out to see HER.

Her name was Luna (at the time) and when they say that you don’t pick a dog, the dog picks you, they are not kidding. She wiggled her butt immediately into my lap, like it’d always been her home. We fit together like two puzzle pieces. I tried to stand to get the rescue workers’ attention, but she climbed onto my shoulders, refusing to be put down. She knew I was her human at that moment just as much as I knew she was my dog.

But I knew she wasn’t a Luna. The entire car ride home, I asked her what she thought her name should be. She didn’t react to any of the names: Evie, Chestnut, Scully. And then I said “What about Winifred?” Immediately, her ears perked up.

The first night was chaotic. She was nervous, and I was having a panic attack. I thought I’d made a terrible decision. I was thirty, but was I an actual adult? What if I couldn’t be a good dog mom? And then something clicked. Two days later, both our anxiety dissipated. We fell into step with one another and began to trust each other.

For the last two years, we've had many adventures together. We've been to Big Bear, Idyllwild, San Diego, Boston. Winnie's got frequent flyer miles now. No matter where we go together, Winnie has her eyes out the window, wiggling her butt, and looking back at me every few minutes asking "Are we there yet?" She always knows what’s coming.

Of all our adventures together, my favorite days are the ones we spend at the beach. Winnie is afraid of running water, so taking her to the beach was risky. I didn’t know if she’d like it and was fully prepared to leave, but the way her butt wiggled when her paws hit the sand and the way her eyes lit up when she sniffed the sea air was pure joy. I took her off her leash and she ran. Well, more like frolicked. She felt free, but she always came back to me. Making sure I felt free, too. That I frolicked with her. And I do.

We do everything together. And that’s the real adventure. Being together. And seeing life through Winnie’s eyes. Every time she sees me, the ocean, the mountains, other dogs, my friends, it’s like she’s seeing them for the first time in her life even though it’s probably the fiftieth. The excitement, the joy, the wiggly butt. It’s a reminder that every day is new. Slow down, love well, and take nothing for granted.

And always remember to wiggle your butts…