I just got home from visiting my brother and meeting his new dog, the most adorable little ball of fur. I’m in love and I just wanted to bring the dog home with me. Just being around that adorable little thing made me so happy. I didn’t care about anything else; I almost ignored taking my medicines at 8 p.m. I don’t know if it was just that he was so cute, or just that he wouldn’t judge me; but I just wanted to be around that dog, see him walking around, exploring his new home, without a care in the world. It just made me happy. He didn’t bark, didn’t bite, didn’t do anything; just explored his home.
It just made me happy and I had no other thoughts in the world. I don’t know if that’s what therapy dogs are for or if that’s one of the things they do; but that just felt like therapy for me. I had no worries. I was just happy being around that adorably happy puppy.
I would just pick him up, put him down, pet him, and take a lot of pictures and videos of him. I wanted to steal him. Now I’m jealous of my brother and I want a dog. I thought I didn’t want the responsibility, but I do. I had fish, and I thought that showed me enough responsibility; but that was nothing. I couldn’t pick the fish up; I couldn’t play with them. It was not the same. I want a pet; I know I can’t have one right now, but I want one, so for now I will be visiting my brother a lot.