text: She was left on the steps of the Humane Society in a garbage bag amongst her other siblings. I can only imagine how unloved and alone she felt; questioning why God had brought her into this world. I was neither left in a garbage bag nor on the steps of a homeless shelter but rather in a family of six, before God, questioning too why He had brought me into this world. You see, I have obsessive-compulsive disorder and it is called the “pure O” type. My thoughts control me. They are, as I have confessed many times, of the impure nature. I was not unloved and surely not alone; but in my own self-made garbage bag. How could I love anything wholly and completely without hurting it? In turn, how could anything love me back? I had been married seven years. No children. It was just me and my husband and of course - my thoughts. We had managed to make our marriage survive. My husband knew of my thoughts but also knew that is was “only” a disease. He loved me anyways but I always held back on giving myself solely to him. I was afraid of hurting him; physically. Although he would joke many times that he was a black belt in karate and could fend for himself I never truly trusted myself. I finally sought out counseling; tough, raw counseling. The person with whom I counseled had never dealt with OCD before; but with kindness and persistence he learned all about it - we both did. He would often give me assignments. For example, sleep tonight with all of the pillows on your bed not hiding them in the closet to keep from using them as a weapon against my sleeping husband. With much work and determination, I accomplished each assignment. Then, the task that would change me forever was discussed. Get a puppy. Love a puppy. You won’t harm a puppy. My husband jumped at the prospect. He is an animal lover and wanted a dog so badly. I had decided that he had sacrificed too much for too long. It was time to take this very scary and emotional step. We decided on the Humane Society because we wanted to rescue a puppy. Also, as one with OCD I had to act before I would obsessively think and worry my way right out of the decision. We called our local chapter and found out that they did have a new litter of puppies. They were black lab/shepherd mixes and they were available ASAP. It was a Saturday morning. We drove off in silence both playing out our own scenarios in our head but neither wanting to share them at that moment. When we reached the Humane Society’s parking lot it was quite full. I hurried my husband along; another OCD action. I had to do this NOW; I had to do this before they were all gone; before my mind changed; before others stole the opportunity. As we walked in, I spotted the puppies immediately. They were in a cage to the left of me. There were only three left. I pushed my husband to go and inquire about them. The young girl took us over to the cage. One of them was spoken for, the other was a male and the third was a female. I immediately made eye contact with the female huddled in the back and she with me. I wanted her. The girl went to get the keys. I immediately felt possessive of this little black bundle of fur! It was getting quite busy by then. People were coming in at a steady pace. A little boy spotted “my” puppy. I quickly put my finger through the cage and started rubbing her front paw; as much as to say: “beat it kid - this one’s mine!” They brought the three of us back to a private room where we could hold and discuss whether we wanted the puppy. The girl said that she would leave us alone and check back in a little while. Once she left I exploded with enthusiasm. I wanted this puppy. My husband pointed out that I hadn’t even held her yet. Held her? Wait, I have to hold her? But what if I get a “thought” and the moment is ruined? What if I hurt her? What if I drop her? What if she doesn’t like me? What if she senses that I am a “bad” person? My husband ignored my ravings and dumped her into my arms. I was as awkward as a new mother holding her baby for the first time. He coached me; where to put my hands; to hold her close to me; to talk to her. And then it happened. Not one “bad” thought came to me and if it had I wouldn’t have noticed. All I could feel was the warmth, breath and love of this little creature. She licked my face; she cuddled with me --- she loved me. We decided that this was the one for us. The girl came back and my husband told her that we could come back tomorrow and pick her up. I looked at him - tomorrow? Yes, he continued, we have nothing ready; no crate, no food, no - anything!!! Once again, my OCD took control. We must take her now or I won’t come back. I have to have her now. I’m not leaving without her. My husband caved - he had learned quickly that fighting w/OCD is pointless. So, I made a check out for $50.00, filled out the necessary forms and left with that beautiful black ray of hope shining from MY arms. We stopped on the way home and got all of the essentials. The pup never left my arms. The next big task was naming her. We took her to see my mother. Mom suggested the name midnight. It was nice but I wanted to name her. I said Colby because she was dark like coal. My husband pointed out that was more for a male pup. He then said Shelby - what about Shelby? We liked it. Shelby was born. For anyone who has raised and cared for a pup I need not tell about all the incidents of both pleasure and pain. For each person, they are the same but very different. I do, however, need to share with you how Shelby completed me and allowed me to grow spiritually and once again trust myself. Shelby was 10 years old. We had noticed that she was short of breath and not very playful. Like a parent knows their child we knew something was wrong. We ended up taking her to an animal hospital emergency room. As soon as we entered the ER, a staff member came out to check on Shelby. She checked her gums - she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. The young girl took the leash from my hand and she was gone. Just like that. The doctor came back out and said that she was stable and that they would be keeping her overnight and running blood work and tests. There was nothing more we could do - “go home” she said “we’ll call you if anything changes”. But didn’t she realize that everything was changing. I was losing my strength, my friend, my dog - my child. The next day we were called back to meet with the Veterinarian specialist on the case. They took us into a small room. There were comfortable chairs, low lighting and soft music. She began by telling us that Shelby was very ill. Her blood work showed that she had end stage leukemia. They presented the option of chemotherapy but said that she would still only live 6 months at the most. They left us to consider our (shelby’s) options as they went to get her for us to visit. My tears began to flow. I knew what we had to do but could only think of what I would be losing. Shelby had given me trust in myself. She had taught me that I could love something and care for it and not harm it. She had also taught me that I could be loved back; that I was worth that love. At that moment, I heard the click of her nails in the hallway. She entered the room; tail wagging and came right up to me. I gave her such a big hug. She looked happy. We had decided that the best thing for her was to put her down. They had told us that even if we took her home she would become worse within hours. They left us alone to say our goodbyes. How do you say goodbye to a part of you? To something that you love beyond all else? To something that has helped you conquer a horrible disease? You know what? You don’t - you just cry and hurt and cry some more. The vet returned. Were we ready? How can one ever be ready for this? The vet asked if we’d like to give her one last biscuit to get her to lie down. As I extended the biscuit to her I couldn’t help notice that she was smiling, tail wagging. I had to ask. I turned to the vet. We are about to end her life and she seems so happy - why? I don’t understand? And then, the vet said something that will always be with me. She said “that’s because dogs live in the moment”. Several weeks after she passed on, I slept with her dog collar and cried myself to sleep. Then, one morning something came over me and I had an urge to write a prayer in honor of her. I would like to end with that prayer. Shelby was not only my dog she was a part of my heart, a gift from God an answer to my prayers. She inspired this prayer and still continues to inspire me each day. She will always be with me and when I get down on life or on myself I try to say this prayer and learn from her --- to live in the moment and trust not only myself but He who made me and that wonderful Shelby. Lord- Show me the way To best use my day Show me the how To live in the now Show me the love That comes from above Show me the light To choose what is right Show me the power To fulfill every hour Show me the why To continue to try Show me the peace To make worries cease Lord, show me the way to best use my day! Amen to God and Amen to my Shelby girl; my strength in this life and my weapon against OCD - where living in the moment used to be only a dream but was now becoming a reality.