If you’d told me a year ago that getting a dog would change me emotionally, I’d have laughed. I thought I knew exactly what I was signing up for: muddy pawprints, stolen socks, and the occasional chewed slipper.
What I didn’t expect was the emotional shift. I never knew getting a dog would help me heal from things I’ve buried since childhood, or that he’d become a sort of anchor for my ADHD brain on the days it feels like everything’s falling apart.
Living with ADHD means my emotions don’t always do the polite, orderly queue thing. They tend to rush in like a crowd at a Black Friday salel big, loud, and impossible to control. Some days it’s frustration over something small, other days it’s sadness I can’t explain, and sometimes it’s just full-blown overwhelm because my brain’s decided everything is “urgent” at once.
“Dogs live in the moment and when we’re around them we can tap into that mind frame too which makes us less stressed.”
ADHD gIRL
Enter Elvis; a black rescue pug. He doesn’t care if my inbox is overflowing or if I’ve spent the day overthinking something I said five years ago. He lives entirely in the moment, and somehow, that pulls me into the moment with him. If I’m upset, he’ll nudge me until I give in and stroke his head. If I’m tense, he flops over in that ridiculous “rub my belly” pose until I have no choice but to laugh.
It’s not just cute; it’s regulation. Dogs have this magic ability to break through emotional spirals without saying a single word. When I’m on the verge of a meltdown or sinking into a slump, Elvis grounds me. He gives me a reason to pause, breathe, and shift my focus onto something safe and familiar.
“I couldn’t imagine life without Elvis now. I mean its a pain trying to arrange dogsitting and him waking me up at 6am on occasion, but he more than makes us for it.”
ADHD gIRL
And it’s not only about ADHD. He’s helped me untangle emotions I didn’t even realise I was carrying, old grief, old insecurities, the kind of stuff you just shove in a mental cupboard and hope won’t fall out.
Sometimes people can be messy, complicated, offend you without meaning to, hurt you without intending to, but dogs are more simple. They don’t have any hidden agendas. As Mark Twain once said: “The more I learn about people, the more I like my dog.”
Turns out, unconditional love and a wagging tail can be more powerful than I ever gave them credit for.
