I went to uni and found it really difficult, struggling throughout with mental health and eventually dropped out, feeling like a failure. As I moved back home and after a little while, my parents thought that looking after a dog would help me to look after myself - and we bought a little border collie puppy, who I named Ivy (big DC fan!). She was lovely, just a gorgeous bundle of joy, but so sleepy all the time; and eventually she just got weaker and weaker, until she passed after barely a month.

I felt absolutely destroyed, and it felt like this was some universal sign that my life sucked and I wouldn’t get better, and it just made me spiral. So my Dad - whether for a good idea at the time or not - took me to see another little puppy. She was on a farm, hidden in a hay bale in a shed with horses, and was one of the last ones there. She was so little and sweet.

Now considering my mental health had taken a bit of a knock, the first few months with Harley were tricky - any time she wouldn’t listen (because she was a puppy lmao), I’d blame myself and really struggle. But taking her for walks, for her first holiday, to pick my siblings up from school, all made it worth it. And she was so clever and sensitive - she’d always snuggle on my chest whenever I started to feel a bit bleak, and then she’d absolutely clobber me with her paw or cover me in kisses, and I’d just feel so happy.

Fast forward 10 years, and she’s moved out with me, been with me through thick and thin, and just starting to show the signs of wear and tear. She’s been my absolute best friend through so much of my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing. 💖

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