I never expected a dog to change my life. When I adopted Luna, a scrappy little mutt with big brown eyes and an endless supply of energy, I was in one of the lowest periods of my life. Depression had settled over me like a fog, making even the simplest tasks feel impossible. I had stopped going out, stopped exercising, and most days, I barely had the motivation to get out of bed. The world outside felt heavy and distant, and I convinced myself that nothing could change that.
But Luna didn’t understand depression. She didn’t know what it meant to feel too exhausted to move, too drained to care. She just knew she needed to be fed, walked, played with, and loved. On that first morning, she woke me up with a nudge of her nose and a wag of her tail. When I ignored her, she barked, then ran to the door, pawing at it insistently. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
So I leashed her up and stepped outside.
At first, our walks were short and reluctant. I resented the obligation, the way she pulled me into the bright, overwhelming world when all I wanted was to curl up in the dark. But something unexpected happened. As the days passed, the walks became longer. I began to take in my surroundings—the crisp morning air, the feel of the sun on my skin, the quiet rhythm of my own footsteps. The movement was gentle at first, but eventually, I started jogging. Then running. Then, on days when Luna had already worn herself out, I went to the gym or took a yoga class on my own. It was as if, by dragging me outside, she had reminded me that I was still part of the world.
The bond we formed went beyond the physical. When I was at my worst, she would sit beside me, resting her head in my lap as if to say, I see you. I’m here. She didn’t need words. Her presence alone was enough to break through the loneliness that depression so often brings. Studies have shown that when dogs and their owners gaze at each other, their brain activity synchronizes, strengthening their emotional connection. I didn’t need a study to tell me that was true—I could feel it every time Luna looked up at me, waiting for me to come back to myself.
But I also had to be honest with myself. While Luna gave me purpose, she wasn’t a cure. Adopting a dog isn’t a magical fix for mental health struggles, and I knew that I had to put in the work, too. Research shows that while dog owners are generally more active, it’s the exercise done independently—running, working out, engaging in sports—that has the greatest impact on mental health. So I made a commitment to myself, to Luna, and to my own recovery. I exercised beyond our walks. I built a routine that wasn’t just about responsibility but about self-care.
Looking back, I realize that Luna didn’t save me. But she helped me save myself. She gave me a reason to move when I felt stuck. She reminded me that love—whether from a pet, a friend, or even yourself—is sometimes enough to take the next step. Depression still lingers, and some days are harder than others. But now, when the fog rolls in, I know what to do. I leash up Luna, step outside, and keep moving.
This post was inspired by findings from a study discussed by Bianca Setionago. For more detailed insights, you can read the full article here: Examining the link between dog ownership, physical activity, and mental health.
