It was the year that changed my life. One day, there I was, a happy pup with a handsome house out in the backyard, a pack of trusted friends, and more toys than I could possibly put in my mouth at the same time.
Then I began to lose interest in eating -- even expensive moist food. The magic vanished from simple activities that once brought me joy, like knocking over the kitchen trash can. My tail stopped wagging for the cute cocker spaniel next door.
I was in the grip of a powerful depression.
That's when my vet suggested Prozac -- and now, poring over my diary from that turbulent year, it's hard to believe everything that happened as I struggled to get in touch with my Inner Puppy. But in the end, a little pill wrapped in bologna taught me truths about happiness we can all share: how to pick yourself up when you feel down in the snout; how to love the sound of your own bark.
What it truly means to a good dog.
Then I began to lose interest in eating -- even expensive moist food. The magic vanished from simple activities that once brought me joy, like knocking over the kitchen trash can. My tail stopped wagging for the cute cocker spaniel next door.
I was in the grip of a powerful depression.
That's when my vet suggested Prozac -- and now, poring over my diary from that turbulent year, it's hard to believe everything that happened as I struggled to get in touch with my Inner Puppy. But in the end, a little pill wrapped in bologna taught me truths about happiness we can all share: how to pick yourself up when you feel down in the snout; how to love the sound of your own bark.
What it truly means to a good dog.
