The Truth About Bailey

I know, I know: I said that as soon as I had my laptop back, I'd be posting some of my "Favorite Things" photos.

...but I don't feel like doing so.
Yet.

I feel that there is something that needs said worse than photos need shared.

Knowing my situation --living back with my parents, not working, etc.-- I have had numerous people ask me why I got a puppy in March, only a few short weeks after Jacob's move to Denver.

It was a question that my own mother asked me just last week.

The answer is not an easy one, and when people find out about it, I'm sure they will wonder about me. (As if readers of this blog don't already wonder about me!)

I got Bailey because I needed something that was mine.

See, I had just gotten finished with a year of living independently from my parents, of living with my boyfriend, of taking care of two dogs & a cat, of dealing with emotional things that I hadn't quite processed yet, and I was returning to my old room, full of things that were mine but nothing that needed me in return.

The year needed me. It needed me to wisely choose to take last summer off from school. It needed me to help my grandmother after my aunt's passing last May.
The house I'd been living in needed me. It needed me to wipe cobwebs off the ceiling. It needed me to fill it with laughter. It needed me to keep it safe from becoming a den of hoodlums.
The dogs in that house needed me. They needed me for food. They needed me for scritches. They needed me to wake up at 7am every day for their morning business.
The cat in that house needed me. He needed me for breakfast. He needed me for cheese. He needed me to clean out his litter box. He needed me to make sure the chair was far enough away from the table so that he could jump safely to reach his bowl on the counter.
My boyfriend needed me. He needed me to come alongside him in his first move away from home. He needed me to support him when things got tough. He needed me to be a smile in the world of uncertainty in which we found ourselves.

Most importantly, I needed all of those things in return.
I needed the house to test my own wings. I needed the year to find out who I was and what it was I needed. I needed the dogs for laughter and to get out of bed in the morning. I needed the cat to be a tie to the one I left behind at my parents' house. I need[ed] my boyfriend because his arms make me feel safe.

The year didn't end as we had hoped it would. We hoped that one of us would have found gainful employment by its end and that we'd be moving from a loaner home into one of our own -- or, at the very least, into a rental. But, unfortunately, as I said, that didn't happen. We were faced with two choices: continue living together or start living separately. The first presented itself with the obvious problem of where to move to; the second choice had a lot more mobility, and it is obviously the one we chose.

He moved to Denver; I moved home.

I found myself suddenly alone. Jacob would come over every day before we lived together; his father's decree on not allowing game consoles to be hooked up to the flat screen discouraged him from spending a lot of time at home. He couldn't do that anymore, since his new home was an hour away.
My room was still a mess from moving out -- random detritus scattered everywhere: not that it was in all that great of condition from before I moved out. 
And my childhood friend, Brat, a calico whose birth I witnessed, whom I helped rear, and who always found me when I was crying, had passed the same night as my aunt last year. I considered her to be my baby; she often spent her mornings curled up in the yellow blanket on my bed and her nights included many hours of snuggling on the warm chest or shoulder of the man she adopted as daddy (Jacob). It was weird being here without her.
I found myself living in a room that didn't feel like mine anymore in a house that wasn't mine surrounded by things that I recognized but could live without.
My heart froze up and I fell into blackness almost immediately.

Enter Bailey.

The ball of fuzzy fur was immediately adorable.
She became my reason to wake up in the mornings: her whines and whimpers were my alarm clock. Her love of play and of being outside drew me into action when I preferred to sit idly by, eating my emotions.  
Though her bathroom habits have improved in the (nearly) five months that she's been a part of my life, she still wakes me up in the morning. She has developed an admirable and winning personality. Her smile is contagious And I am really the only person for whom she will go #2.
I have only shared this with one person before now, but I feel it is important to share on a broader scale that she has saved my life twice. I have traveled some dark, dark roads since February, and for all her innocence, Bailey has bore witness to tears that no human has. She could not ask me what was wrong or even hold me in her arms, but her wet nose and shining eyes told me that she could not fend for herself in this world, and that leaving her here would be a selfish disservice. I had agreed to take care of her, to be her 'mommy,' and to make sure that she was looked after; abandoning her would be cruel. Shamefacedly, I had to make this argument twice: once was not enough.
(I knew, in those dark times, that everyone else in my life would be capable of pulling through, of eventually soldiering on: some part of me even knew that Bailey would be taken care of -- but there was more to our situation than that. See, I promised her that I'd always come back for her. Yes, she's a dog, not a kid, but even the dumbest among the species is more intuitive than most people.) Besides, she's not just a dog: she's MY dog.

Bailey has helped me prove to my dad that actions and inactions alike have consequences and results. She has shown my mom that if I "ever, ever have children" that I will be a good mother to them.
More importantly, she is helping me reconnect with my Self. She's helping me break down walls I didn't even realize I had. Slowly --ever so slowly-- I am starting to feel the sunlight again.
...and we are only five months in. What other miracles is she going to achieve?