Introduction: I got my first dog, a rescue, when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and fibromyalgia. I was never looking for a dog, but something happened when I saw her. All I can say is, I knew "Okay, I have a dog."
She was a rescue from a hoarder where the circumstances were so bad that the dogs were killing each other for food. The authorities came in and four dogs were pulled--she was one of them. The other three did not make it due to social issues--she had her own issues; she was very timid of everyone and everything except me. She understood me, and I understood her. No words were necessary.
If it was not for her and the dogs and cats after her, I don't think I would have survived my own physical issues. My best friend(s) saw me through it all and still continue to get me out of bed when I don't think I can do it.
Although I have an education degree and am a skilled paralegal, I truly feel that I am meant to help other people's best friends and teach their owners what their best friends are truly capable of.
I currently have an Old English sheepdog (13 years old), a stud for a breeder who dumped him at a shelter when he got too old and a basset hound with no eyes because her people did not take care of her when she got sick.