When I was a child, I broke my right leg rollerblading. It healed incorrectly, making me walk with a considerable limp for almost two years after the cast came off. It was a great source of embarrassment for me in the 4th grade, and to top it all off, I had transferred to two different schools that year. At my previous school, I was teased by other students. The environment at this new school was more positive compared to my previous experiences. No one had been mean to me, but I felt different from the other kids and struggled to adjust.
Every morning before school, I would sit with Sadie, my dog, and contemplate how much I dreaded going to school. I often wished I could turn into a dog and stay comfortably at home with her all day. 🏠📺😴🐕
During a particularly lengthy day at school, I sat at my desk and opened my math folder. It was midday, and I remember telling myself, “Just two more periods before you go home.” The lesson began. While pulling out my math homework from its folder, I noticed two white, wavy Sadie hairs on the pocket. I stared at the thin dog hairs and attempted to push away the negative thoughts that began to bubble up. Thoughts of how I struggled to fit in and missed all the comfort Sadie provided me at home. No one knew me or understood me like my dog, Sadie!
Tears started streaming down my face in the middle of the Math lesson. I tried to hide it and get myself together, but it was soon apparent, and another kid nearby blurted out, “Um… Mrs.Davidson, Aida is crying?” 🤔😐🤚
Cue more waterworks due to embarrassment. 😖
“Why are you crying, Aida?” Mrs.Davidson asked in front of the class. I remember how frustrated she sounded to my 9-year-old self, as I was grown enough to know better, and my odd emotionality didn’t make much sense. I certainly didn’t understand how to explain it at that age. Mrs. Davidson spoke again from the front of the room; this time, she turned her attention to another girl who, oddly enough, had the same name as my childhood dog. “Sadey is new too, and she doesn’t cry every day.”
I was told to go to the Nurse’s office for my strange outburst and interrogated more about it. I refused to offer any insight to the adults. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I had only seen my dog’s flyaway hairs on my Math Folder and missed her! Or that the very same dog was young, vibrant, and alive at home, probably waiting to greet me! While my sudden tears may have alluded to her being on the verge of death. 😅
Looking back, I always laugh at this odd emotional moment, which was akin to my sensitive personality. I did eventually find my footing (metaphorically and physically).
Dogs support children emotionally when they struggle with discomfort and are not yet mature enough to find the words to express themselves or logically work out the solutions to their emotional distress.
As we grow older, we must deal with our uncomfortable feelings whether we have an emotional support animal or not. We learn and grow from the challenges we face when we cannot cry or hide away at home. The comfort and unconditional love a dog provided me as an impressionable child gave me a firmer footing in facing those challenges as I grew up.
After all that embarrassment, I came home from school that day, happier to see Sadie than ever, feeling like she understood me more than anyone could. I also did not cry again at school for the rest of that year or the years after… 😊😉🎓
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