Petlife logo

Prisoner at Large

The Baddest Good Girl

By MarinaPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
Like
The baddest

A costume should be a departure from what’s real, and calling this girl a bad one is such a stretch it makes me laugh. Right from the start, Abbey’s mean-looking mug kept me feeling both safe and amused on walks. Often referred to as things like “big fella” and “big guy” by strangers, she was actually the sweetest and gentlest soul I’ve ever met in my entire life. She would never hurt a fly, and in fact was responsible for me finding and saving a baby bird, she alerted me to baby bunnies in the yard, and could sense I was about to cry before I even knew. I know that to write about something requires words, but I’m at a loss for them when trying to describe how important she was to me.

To say she was the best part my life would be an understatement, because at some points she was the only part. There were days I was so sad and exhausted that the only time I could feel anything at all other than excruciating pain was when I’d look at her and say “I love you so much”.

Almost a year ago to the day, Abbey and I made a terrifying escape from what felt like my own personal prison. In November of 2020, I made the decision to try to flee a lifetime of psychological, sexual and emotional abuse. We made it to a crappy motel, but after I got there I was informed my stuff had been damaged. I wasn’t able to take much with me when I left, as the physical intimidation was in full force, and I forgot some of my most cherished items. Those were of course the items that were damaged or “lost”, but at least I had Abbey.

I’d wake up every morning to her sweet face, knowing I had to get up or she wouldn’t have her needs filled. As a person who was afraid to walk from her house to her car previous to this because of such extreme social anxiety, I can’t explain the fear of walking through Walmart with tears running down my face, knowing if I didn’t my dog didn’t eat. There were a lot of days I didn’t even eat, but there was no way I was letting Abbey suffer any more than she’d already had to in her life as my emotional support dog in a dangerous home. I watched a once very happy dog become sad, nervous, and jumpy in that home after witnessing multiple physical attacks and not being able to help. Seeing the life come back into her, as our time was finally ours and we could just enjoy each other’s company, was like magic.

I watched her weight drop to a healthy level, and her fur turn soft and shiny. Her mood had improved so much that the guilt of realizing how much a life in an abusive home had affected her almost became too much. But then I realized - I was viewing her as I had viewed my inner child. Her magic was stolen by the miserable people around her, but she was still full of love. She was still happy. She was still Abbey.

In watching her grow and become a braver stronger dog, I myself became braver and stronger. I may not have gotten to the part where I got her a backyard to relax in, but I’d like to think she’s up in doggy Heaven proud of all the progress I continue to make without her.

Losing her is the worst pain of my entire life, but I’m so lucky to have loved something so much. It because of her that I was strong enough to lose her. She taught me what it is to be kind even when things are hard, and to love even when it hurts.

dog
Like

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.