Puddles

We very rarely, if ever, take into account a dog's name.

I remember growing up with Snickers- and of course, after that, we had Rolo and Reese. They were the sweet snacks of my life. Dogs whose name as a kid I thought was so clever I was proud to announce my new dog Snickers. Only to learn that mere weeks later one of my friends adopted a dog with the exact same name.

My little heart was devastated.

Anyways, as we all unfortunately know, time passes.

I grew up and was on my way to a fledgling career as a college student. Piling up behind me, however, was the massive cost of mental health issues.

It wasn't until the end of my senior year in high school that anybody even thought to diagnose me with a mental health disorder. Sure, I had generalized anxiety and depression but no one truly knew. Voila, as I've mentioned multiple times, I got agoraphobia, PTSD, and depression trio.

Their solution for now? An emotional support animal.

At the time, it was the summer before college when we began the search. It wasn't until the end of August 2015, that I found the dog that matched with me. A food motivated (at the time quiet but inquisitive) black and white Yorkiepoo.

We had a bond and near-instantly decided to get him.

Needless to say, I couldn't think of a name. The day, overall, had been quite terrible. It was a storming mess outside and he refused to be held so his little body was dodging these humungous raindrops as he trotted along.

Eventually, we came to the dreaded curb.

In one mistimed step he tumbled over the cement and into a deep puddle. He was soaked, miserable, and now a whining mess. I had to hold a tiny, shivering, yelping puppy while my mom drove us back home.

Me, being the creative genius I am, named him aptly: Puddles.

I would be lying if I said he was perfect from the get-go. My god, the sleepless nights with puppies I do not miss. He constantly needed something, and the longer we let him go the more he would whine. I honestly don't know how I got him out of that stage without having him develop separation anxiety. I like to think he's just a drama queen.

Needless to say, the bundle of fluff kept me sane through my first years of college. Having agoraphobia made college feel like an impossible task. I, for the first few months, felt completely alone and isolated. I couldn't even bring myself to enjoy orientation or any of the activities they offered.

For a little while, I didn't think I would make it.

After the first couple of weeks though, I was able to bring this doofus with me.

My anxiety was completely changed upon his arrival. I now had a best friend who got me out of my dorm room, and not only that, he also made me friends on my floor. My dorm-mates would often help me take care of him and would play with him and walk him when I had longer days that required me to stay on campus for nearly 12 hours. He was the community floor dog, and despite my issues with making friends, he helped me bridge that socialization gap. Freshman year we had a little family up on Stuart Hill.

This continued through sophomore and even junior year before I had to leave due to other medical reasons. I ended up finishing my college degree online and now have a shiny new English and Creative Writing degree.

I guess there is just something about a dog that brings a plethora of people together- and he gets to take all the credit for the friendships and bonds I made in my college years.

Thanks, Puddles, for being my best friend- we're going on 6 years strong.