Dog Medicine: How My Dog Saved Me From Myself by Julie Barton
2016
Weight: 8 oz
Method of Disposal: Lending Library at Shelter
I struggled to know how to write about this one. Maybe I should not read books about dogs anymore. I cringed each time the author's dog's legs went out, he screamed in pain, and she did not take him to the vet. It was obvious she loved him more than anything and still it was painful to read those moments. I wondered about the dog that went back to the shelter in NY and the rabbit that lived in the apartment.
I appreciated the author's honesty and that she wrote about her depression in a way that felt authentic. It was challenging to get through. I had trouble hearing about her parent's struggle to help her save herself. I wished there was a book by her mom, her dad, and even her brother.
I do not know why I was so resistant to her story. Clearly. so many people love it and relate to it. Maybe it was our differences in how we approach dogs or maybe I really struggle to read about someone else dealing with depression. I don't know why. I fight with it too, and I know that there are a lot of people out there dealing with depression silently who need to know that other people are dealing with it too and that it happens to all sorts of people for a variety of reasons, some of them unknown. Still, there is a part of me that rears up when I see someone lashing out at people trying to care for them, turning their back on the responsibilities of work, and of pets. I cannot explain it. I should be more understanding. I guess that might be how people close to me look at me. I don't know.
2016
Weight: 8 oz
Method of Disposal: Lending Library at Shelter
I struggled to know how to write about this one. Maybe I should not read books about dogs anymore. I cringed each time the author's dog's legs went out, he screamed in pain, and she did not take him to the vet. It was obvious she loved him more than anything and still it was painful to read those moments. I wondered about the dog that went back to the shelter in NY and the rabbit that lived in the apartment.
I appreciated the author's honesty and that she wrote about her depression in a way that felt authentic. It was challenging to get through. I had trouble hearing about her parent's struggle to help her save herself. I wished there was a book by her mom, her dad, and even her brother.
I do not know why I was so resistant to her story. Clearly. so many people love it and relate to it. Maybe it was our differences in how we approach dogs or maybe I really struggle to read about someone else dealing with depression. I don't know why. I fight with it too, and I know that there are a lot of people out there dealing with depression silently who need to know that other people are dealing with it too and that it happens to all sorts of people for a variety of reasons, some of them unknown. Still, there is a part of me that rears up when I see someone lashing out at people trying to care for them, turning their back on the responsibilities of work, and of pets. I cannot explain it. I should be more understanding. I guess that might be how people close to me look at me. I don't know.
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