I can see that you aren’t feeling well again, but I am unsure of what exactly is bothering you. You went into the bathroom as soon as you came home, dropping your bags in the floor of the living room without even acknowledging me eagerly waiting for you. I am sitting outside the bathroom door, periodically sticking my paw underneath the barely lit crack of the door.
I can hear you sobbing.
I know that I cannot understand the things that you do, but I understand the love you show me. Because of this, I know that you are worth the love you so effortlessly give to others. Did you have another panic attack? Did you get nervous driving somewhere new? Did someone look at you with a look of disgust? I bet you are overthinking it, my human, but I know that that isn’t what you want to hear.
I wish I could take this depression away from you.
Some days you take me outside and run with me. We throw the ball over and over, and you roll on the grass laughing at my clumsiness. But not today. Today you are sad- just like yesterday and the day before. You were strong enough to get out of bed and to face the world, and for that, I am proud of you. Sometimes just breathing is doing enough for the day.
The doorknob is turning. You are coming out of the bathroom.
My tail cannot contain its excitement, I start jumping up and down and you kneel down to give me a hug. I lick the tears from your face and you laugh. It is a small laugh, but it is a laugh nonetheless. The first laugh in over a week. I know, because I live with you. You got through another bout, human. You have done it again.
