“During the time we spent together, he not only found a home, he also gave me one. That was something I hadn’t counted on. When I rescued him I didn’t realize I was taking the first steps towards rescuing myself.” -Tom Ryan

I read that excerpt over and over again. Tom Ryan, author of Following Atticus, had summed up what I felt in my heart, but could never put into words, in just three short sentences.

My dog, Hubert, better known as Huey, became a permanent resident in my home over three years ago after he came for a “vacation” and never left. My brother and his wife had their hands full with a growing family and to put it kindly, Huey is not the easiest dog to manage for a multitude of reasons. His arrival came with severe trepidation. I was essentially taking in the troubled child with a long list of medical issues to boot. The history of aggressiveness, allergies, disobedience and overall lack of training would deter the average human being from agreeing to this undertaking; But, in my heart of hearts I knew I was doing the right thing for not only my brother, but also this misunderstood (be it adorable ) French Bulldog. What I didn’t know at the time was that I was also doing the right thing for myself. It was fate.

I’m a Cancer and if you know anything about the zodiac signs you know that my symbol is a crab. I am the epitome of the sign. To sum up the crab , we are fiercely loyal to our family and close friends , but do not particularly trust strangers; we are compassionate, empathetic and love the comforts of home. Cancers are complex, emotional and can be difficult to understand because we tend to hide behind our tough exterior (hence the crab symbol; we always have the ability to retreat to our shell.) I do realize the irony of being reluctant to share my feelings while simultaneously writing a blog, however, I can tell you it has taken me a tremendous amount of soul searching to get to this point of development.

I am truly blessed with the most supportive and loving family and friends, yet it’s always been in my makeup to isolate when I’m overwhelmed with sadness. It’s a crab thing.

Around the time I acquired my new four-legged roommate, I had recently gone through a difficult breakup and fled Manhattan to live in the suburbs of Westchester. I was convinced this was the right move for me, but looking back I was simply trying to escape the pain caused by a failed relationship. Unfortunately, I quickly realized that no matter how far I ran, the heartache followed. It was my first real love and my first real heartbreak so coping with this type of suffering was entirely new to me. I remember my sister repeatedly telling me, “I promise you’re going to be okay, Jul- it just takes time.” I also remember thinking she was wrong and I would never be myself again. Then, by the grace of God, this mischievous pup walked into my apartment and our life together began.

I’d love to tell you that my brother dropped off Huey with his crate, toys, treats and gluten free dog food (yes, gluten free) and we lived happily ever after with no issues. That was not the case. Even though Huey and I were longtime friends, this 2 year old dog was understandably confused about his new home and his behavior was less than gentleman like. The first few weeks there were sleepless nights, accidents, high-pitched screeching noises anytime I left the apartment and countless other problems. You’ll never meet a bigger dog advocate than me, but there were times when I wanted to throw in the towel and tell my brother to come get his ill-mannered son.

Things between my roommate and I changed for the better slowly, but surely. I remember the night when I realized he was mine forever. It was a Friday evening and like most of my nights in Bronxville, I opted to stay in. I was having a particularly difficult night. One of the things I missed most about being in a relationship was simply hanging out and doing nothing except enjoying each other’s company. In modern terms, I missed the “Netflix and Chill” nights. I put a movie on that Friday and was laying on the couch when I realized that little terror just knew something was wrong. He moved from the other end of the couch and got as close to my face as he possibly could, looking me in the eye as if to say I’m here – you’re okay. As someone who does not like to discuss my feelings, this was just the type of support I needed. A dog that couldn’t talk, in the conventional sense, but I learned right then and there he could certainly listen. It was love.

Living in the suburbs of Westchester as a newly single, 25 year old would make most people assume I was quite the recluse, but I never felt lonely with Huey around. His various idiosyncrasies such as stealing anything he could get his paws on (pun intended ) began to grow on me. This little dog had a big personality and brought laughter and companionship into my life when I needed it most.

Undoubtedly, the greatest gift Huey has bestowed upon me is his unconditional love and his unwavering loyalty. He was literally by my side during one of the darkest times in my life and he was able to provide a silent sense of comfort that I believe only a dog can give. The truth is, I probably would not have asked for help from anyone else, but I didn’t have to ask Huey. He loved me hard when I was having trouble loving myself.

Recently Hue and I went to pick up his Prozac from the vet (I wish I was kidding, but I’m not) and per usual, he barked ferociously as the tech attempted to take the leash from me and lead him to the back. I scolded him and he stubbornly ignored me in typical Huey fashion, as he continued to terrorize the girl. Eventually she was able to take him from me to get his blood work. When the tech returned to the front a few minutes later I nervously inquired about how he did. She quickly responded that he was a complete sweetheart to everyone, giving kisses and all. I looked at her, confused, and asked “Are you being serious?” She then informed me that he only acts out when I’m holding the leash because he thinks he’s protecting me. Now, I’m not saying this is a behavior I should be proud of, but this moment reminded me of my dog’s steadfast loyalty and innate desire to keep me safe. Not everyone is as lucky to have that kind of love, that kind of friend.

I’m glad to say that my Bronxville days are long behind me and just like my sister insisted, I survived the breakup – but I firmly believe Huey was essential to my healing. He was with me at my lowest and loved me with the same intensity that he loves me in my present day healthy state. I feel blessed every single day I return home from work and he greets me at the door as if he hasn’t seen me in ages. That’s a feeling only a dog owner can fully grasp, but honestly there’s nothing quite like it. Maybe Huey didn’t exactly save me, but he certainly helped me save myself and for that, I am eternally grateful. Huey may not ever be the most obedient dog, but I love him in spite of his faults because he loves me in spite of mine; In fact, that’s the thing about dogs, they only see the good in people. If you ask me, I’ll take a dog friend over a human friend any day of the week.