My Golden Heart Healer
 

     It all started out with excitement, happiness, and joy. I had met, fallen in love with, and gotten engaged to the love of my life, Dave. He is handsome, intelligent, charming, and everything else one looks for in a man, however, there was one monumental problem. He lived on the other side of the world. I knew that with no money and few options, I would have to either say goodbye to Dave, or move to England, from my home state of Florida, to be with him. I made the decision to move, and wedding plans began.
     Rachel, my ever faithful Golden Retriever was just six months old when I met Dave on the internet. It was just about 8 months later that she made her move to the United Kingdom. She was (and still is) fun loving, cuddly, intelligent, and demanding of grooming, training, play, and exercise. A beautiful blonde, she always makes me smile. Tragically, she would need to go through six months of isolation in the British quarantine if I wanted to bring her with me to England. Refusing to rehome her, I trusted her incredibly stable temperament and happy attitude to get her through this tough time. I sent her well ahead of myself, as I wanted her to be nearly through with the quarantine when I arrived in the UK.
     Well, she survived the flight, and even the six months. Rachel's six month quarantine started on September 15, 2000, and on March 15, 2001, I picked her up. What a glorious day!
     Things were quite good for some time, but then, slowly, and without warning, depression set in. I was horribly upset about leaving my other dog, a Whippet, behind. Once I had arrived in the country, I had realized that a Whippet would never survive the quarantine. They are too sensitive and lack the Golden's never ending happy, hopeful spirit. Guilt and sorrow for having left him, even though he was and still is happy and spoiled at my parents' house, began to eat away at me. By June of 2001, I was truly a mess, and the only thing that got me through the day was the love of my dogs. Rachel had been through so much to be here with me, and her cheery nature never faded. I slipped into a further state of depression. Before I knew it, it was July, and I was unable to leave the house without either Rachel, or Maysaa, my Saluki dog, and preferably both of them. I refused to go shopping with my husband. I turned down an invite from a friend to go to the movies. I needed new shoes, but I wouldn't go to the shoe shop, since my dogs were not allowed. Rachel had become my security, and without her, symptoms of panic attacks would begin right away.
     The fear of la panic attack became such that I lived in constant terror of having to go anywhere or do anything, for any reason, without Rachel. Being trapped in the house, of course, only made the loneliness and sorrow worse, and I slipped further down a spiral of depression. By my 21st birthday, August 15, 2001, I was spending the day in my nightgown, crying, sobbing, having repeated panic attacks, and doing absolutely nothing productive. Weeks of this went on. Since much of my problem stemmed from the original pain of leaving my Whippet, I had avoided that breed on the street and anywhere else. Suddenly, though, I was possessed with the idea of getting another one- not to replace the first, but to simply try to fill some of the hole in my heart that the other dog had left.
     The hopefulness that waiting for the new puppy gave me was enough to get me to dry my tears. But that wasn't enough, and that is where a Golden angel came into play. After all, surely she had felt the same, if not worse, in quarantine. She was trapped, lonely, and confused. Suddenly I realized just how much understanding really was inside of those warm brown eyes. Shortly after I selected a breeder and the 10 week countdown until I could bring my new Whippet puppy home began, Rachel started, literally, dragging me back to the real world.
     When I would sleep to late, she would root her way under the covers, then stand up, therefore dragging the covers off of me. She'd nudge me and nose me and toss toys at me. She'd get my Saluki excited and the two of them would jump around the bed, first annoying me, then sending me into fits of laughter. Rachel would bring me her lead, begging for a walk. Quickly, I was cleaning house, getting dressed every day, and going for long dog walks. Dave, of course, was thrilled with the difference, as was I.
     Then, tragedy struck, and the events of September 11, 2001, unfolded. I watched, crying, with Rachel in my arms, as my beautiful home country seemed defeated. Home sickness, sorrow, and more depression swept over me, but Rachel would not have that either. Although she is a dog, I couldn't help but feel that she, too, counted as a fellow American. Both of us were American born, and in a strange country. We stuck together.
     Months have passed- six months in fact. The new puppy arrived, and has become an absolutely wonderful part of our family. I now know what the inside of the grocery store looks like. I have friends, happiness, and hope for the future. Rachel lead me from depression ruled darkness to busy, sunshine filled trips to dog shows, town centres, and friends across the country. I had no professional help, no medications, and very little assistance from friends or family. I had the best medicine there is. A Golden's love. I couldn't have done it without her.