Puppies!
I have read that having a pet is good for your health. I think that would depend a great deal on the pet you have. For example, if the dogs next door were mine, I would have already lost my mind.
But the dogs that I have known personally have always been a comfort for me. It is calming to give them belly rubs and scratch their ears. Taking them for walks provides exercise. And the silly things they do make me laugh.
I have almost always had a pet, usually a dog (and sometimes a cat). When we were first married, we lived in an apartment on the third floor of a converted house. We thought an apartment was too small to have a dog, and we were right. So we had a cat named Pud (short for Puddytat). Sometimes we would come home and find his claws attached to the screen in the window… apparently he thought he could catch a bird in the tree just outside.
Our next pet was Sammi, a border collie mix found with her brother abandoned at Lake Travis. She was a wonderful dog, and was very good at catching the frisbees my husband would throw. She was a terrific protector for our first child, and they became great friends.
Next came Jack, an Australian shepherd mix whom I thought was beautiful. Most everyone else thought he was a nice dog, but ugly. Every day he and I would walk my younger son to school, and pick him up afterwards. Jack was a big hit with the other families waiting for their children to be released from class.
Our next dog was our first Golden Retriever. Missy chose my husband when we were at an adopting event. I had intended to select one of the small puppies (but with huge paws), called the Flintstones. There were Fred, Wilma, Barney, Betty, Pebbles, and Bam Bam. But by the time I had found the one I wanted, I learned that Missy had already made her choice, and my husband apparently agreed. So two-year-old Missy came home to live with us and stayed thirteen years.
We next adopted Molly, a six-year-old Golden Retriever who eventually moved with us from Texas to Alabama. She was taken much too soon, and much too quickly, to cancer. Unfortunately, this is not unusual for Goldens. She was with us only three years.
After a break, we applied to adopt another Golden. We requested one, about sixty pounds, and about two years old. We ended up with two, one eighty-five pounds and the other ninety-five pounds, both about seven years old. They seem to be part Golden, and part Great Pyrenees, and have a different temperament from Goldens. Not bad, but definitely different. We have all had some adjustments to make, but we have settled in nicely.
Once I retired, I wanted to help an organization that saves Golden Retrievers. There is one that serves Alabama, and I now write and distribute an email newsletter to their supporters. My husband and I also transport Goldens from the northern part of the state to their vets in Birmingham. Those transported pets can be hilarious, stressed out, sleepy, energetic, sweet, and occasionally tragic. But doing this work is rewarding, and I am grateful when I see a beautiful dog get a loving, new family and a new start toward a happier life.
Every dog I have had the honor to have as part of my family has taken a warm place in my heart. With each one, my heart has grown a bit bigger; and when I have lost them, my heart breaks a little bit. The memories we have created together will last forever, though, and that is definitely a comfort.