This young girl was depressed, suicidal, and about to give up. But when she came across a dying dog on the side of the road, she never thought her life would take a drastic turn…
I was miserable as a young teenager. I caught my mom in the act of cheating on my dad one night and the day after I went for a hike when school got out. I wanted to do anything other than go home.
By this point I was bitter, self-harming, hated school and hated my peers/family. All of that was running through my mind as I jogged along the highway out of town. All I could think about was how I needed to get a job, get out of town and learn independence since I’d been alone most of my life anyway.
Busy with my thoughts I saw something in the corner of my eye. It was moving in the grass on the ditch of the highway, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. I was a little scared; thinking it could be a skunk. Slowly, I approached it. I soon heard whimpering. I stood over it. I found out it was a Golden Retriever. It looked like it was making its way toward me. It looked as though one of it’s legs was badly hurt.
I remember thinking why should I feel bad? Why should I help it when no one has helped me. I stormed off, attempting to make my way out of town. After a few yards I stopped.
Feeling torn and upset. I so badly wanted to be heartless, yet something tugged at me. My chest hurt. Finally, I turned around and ran back to the dog. I hiked it over my shoulder and started making my way back to town.
It took me two hours to get back to town with the dog. It fought with me to put it down either because it hurt too much or had to use the bathroom. Also because I was tired, out of breath and had to use the bathroom myself. I also fed the dog what was left of my lunch that day. I don’t know how long he was out there, but he scarfed down what I had so I figure it’d been awhile since he ate.
After what felt like countless hours I made it back to town and thankfully the SPCA was on the outskirts of town. I brought him in and I told the nurse I found him on the side of the road and I think his foot was hurt. I left to go home. I was tired.
All I could think about was that dog the next day during school so I rushed over to the SPCA when we got out. The same nurse was there so I asked her how the dog was doing. They did an immediate operation that morning and put a few bolts in his hip and leg joint. She took me to his kennel and he had a cast on. He was sleeping from the anesthetic.
She told me, “You saved his life. He has a broken hip and leg. He had internal bleeding. If you didn’t bring him in he would of died last night, for sure.”
I felt her words literally resonate through me. I broke down to my knees and started crying. She asked me if I was okay, knelt down with me and rubbed my back. I kept saying thank you through my snot and tears.
I was thanking the dog. Thanking him for giving me purpose. Thanking him for making me realize I’m human and I never want anyone or anything to ever hurt like I did. I felt like I had done something right for the first time in my life.
The third day I dropped in he licked my cheek and I sat with him for awhile; his head in my lap.
Biggest, most vulnerable brown eyes I ever saw. I visited him everyday until he was adopted out. Took him for walks. Gave him treats. I even helped train him.
I miss him, but every time I feel low I think about that dog. He also plays a huge part in thinking logically when I’m upset or mad. He’s helped me become a much better person. Taught me sympathy, to do acts of kindness, and the world doesn’t owe me a thing, but I can still help others which in turn helps me.
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