My Emotional Support Department

The Feral Truth: My emotional support department is underfunded, overworked, and primarily staffed by dogs. 🦝☕💗

I'd like to take a moment to recognize the members of my emotional support department.

Because frankly, they've been carrying this operation.

First, we have Sophie.

Sophie firmly believes she is responsible for the emotional wellbeing of everyone within a three-mile radius.

Whether anyone asked her to be or not.

Particularly not.

Sophie has appointed herself Director of Feelings.

If someone cries, she's there.

If someone is sick, she's there.

If someone sits down, she's there.

If someone attempts to go to the bathroom alone, she's definitely there.

Her commitment to unnecessary supervision is unmatched.

Then there's Brooklyn.

Brooklyn's approach is slightly different.

Brooklyn believes emotional support consists primarily of existing nearby and judging everyone's decisions.

A valuable contribution.

Every organization needs diversity.

Beyond the dogs, there is coffee.

Coffee has never asked invasive questions.

Coffee has never told me to "stay positive."

Coffee has never suggested a gratitude journal.

Coffee simply arrives every morning and quietly does its job.

Which is more than I can say for certain humans.

Then there are group texts.

The modern equivalent of gathering around a campfire and collectively screaming into the void.

Some days, a single text from the right person can keep you moving.

A joke.

A meme.

A ridiculous observation.

Proof that somebody else understands.

Those moments matter.

More than people realize.

Because caregiving can be lonely.

Grief can be lonely.

Fear can be lonely.

But laughter?

Laughter reminds you that you're still here.

Still human.

Still capable of finding something funny in the middle of an absolute disaster.

I've learned that survival rarely looks the way people expect.

It isn't always bravery.

It isn't always resilience.

Sometimes it's a dog sitting on your foot.

A friend sending a meme.

A cup of coffee.

A five-minute conversation.

Tiny things holding together a very fragile day.

And honestly?

That's enough.

Sometimes enough is extraordinary.

Yours in chaos,

~Kari, The Feral Caregiver