I want a universe where Billy gets a therapy dog after Starcourt. And it’s this three legged, grumpy as hell, golden retriever that only responds to “sweetheart”. Billy both loves her and wants to kick her ass, but she’s a very good therapy dog. Plus she’s only sweet around one person and that’s Steve. Much like her owner, she lights up when she sees Steve.
(Steve calls both of them “his sweethearts”.)
you don't have to read this!
there was a therapy dog petting session at my school, for all the stressed out kids freaked abt finals [like myself] and it was like. it was good!
well i mean it was bad at first?? i was a nervous wreck, i'm seriously a socially anxious person idk if you can tell? i get shaky and i dissociate and i can hardly walk up to a group of people without feeling like. idk im intruding...
but anyways it was all like that and i was sitting there shaking like a leaf right beside these ppl who just wanted to pet dogs AND I MEAN SO DID I but i was like alone and afraid yk? if i have friends im fine! but i didn't have friends there with me. so yeah. and im staring at the dogs like what do i do? what are dogs? i don't know i can't just go up in the middle and start petting them the hands are already in the good petting place what if they brush against mine? then id have to go wash my hands? no thank you man!
but yeah eventually they left and one came up and was just sitting in front of me! and i was like omg this is the best thing ever actually. petting this lil french bulldog. sweetest thing. im so glad i signed up for this. but then they left and i was like aw crap. idk what to do. but the crowds were all gone and it was just this one person petting the dog so i got treats for them and pet the dogs! and it was great! idk it was a breakthrough! i dont just go up to people like that, cool thing, a nice progress! i'm proud of me, really
but yeah there was this one guy came up to us as we were petting two SEPARATE dogs so i didn't get hand cooties, and he was like are these your guyses therapy dogs?? and i was like no oh no defo not but like i wished it was. idk these dogs kinda helped me make an acquaintance! i was shaking at the start but completely relaxed just chilling by the end. like oh if this is what a trained dog can do for me then id love to have one actually! and it's just something i've been thinking about for awhile, so maybe once i move out id like to try and train a dog like that, yanno? it was nice to just have the experience before i made a move! but yeah i thought that was neat!
tl;dr i met therapy dogs and they did what they're supposed to and now i wish i had one
Whumpmas in July (Day 18): Support
I’m wayyy behind, but here’s general lot a whumpee recovering from a traumatic experience with the love and support of their teammates.
CW: wholesome content, hospitals, long term recovery, therapy, therapy dog, probably PTSD but not officially
It’s two weeks before whumpee is allowed out of the hospital. They hate hospitals, so those two weeks suck, but their teammates try their best to help. On day 2, someone wheeled a tv into their hospital room, and thus the team collectively engaged in watching the longest-running shows they could find. They brought snacks and popcorn and the whumpee’s favorite drinks. The whumpee didn’t always want those snacks, but they felt bad that their friends had brought them, so they ate them anyway. It was a secret ploy from the teammates to make sure they got food in their stomachs.
The day the whumpee left the hospital, their best friend brought their favorite sweatpants, shirt, and fluffy sweater. They borrowed a friend’s car to bring the whumpee back to their shared home, instead of just calling an Uber. The less stale, the better.
The whumpee hid around the base for a week, piling under blankets and watching even more movies. Their teammates didn’t push at first. They brought their own blankets, dimmed the lights, ordered fast food for lunch, and home-cooked the whumpee’s favorite meals for dinner
When it was time to push them out, the first trip was to the grocery store. A teammate took them to the store to get supplies for spaghetti bolognese. It was a simple recipe. The base already had most supplies, so all they needed to get was pasta, ground meat, and tomato sauce. The teammate stayed a pace behind the whumpee, letting them pick the speed. Usually, they wandered off and paced the aisles while the cooking-inclined teammates did the shopping. This time, they stayed close, making sure the whumpee knew they were there if needed.
“Can we make cookies?” The whumpee asked— their first request in a while. The teammate beamed, and they took some pressure off the whumpee by leading the way to the frozen cookie dough.
The whumpee sat in the waiting room of the therapist’s office, staring at the door. They wanted to leave. They wanted to run. A different teammate than the grocery store grabs their hand and squeezes it.
“It’s ok. You don’t have to talk more than you want to,” They promise. The therapist calls the both of them back. “I’ll leave after introductions, unless you want me to stay.”
They enter the therapist’s office, and a fluffy dog wags their tail from a dog bed in the corner. “That’s Max,” The therapist says. “I heard you like dogs, so he’s here to help if you want him.” The dog lays their head and paws in the whumpee’s lap as they timidly recount some of the events before their captivity.
The next outing is to a favorite restaurant. The team chooses it because customers order and then sit down, so they get their food immediately, but they can leave whenever they want. There’s only one door that the whumpee needs to watch. The whumpee gets through most of their meal before it becomes too much, and they hide in the bathroom.
One teammate follows and quietly sits with them until they’re ready to go. They sheepishly apologizing for ruining the meal. “That’s ok,” The team lies. “We we’re about to leave anyway. We got your food boxed up.”
The whumpee slowly re-engages with the world, always on their own terms, and always with as many teammates as they want. Every step of the way, if they want to take a step back instead, it’s okay. They’ll recover when they’re ready. They start to attend team practices again, and nobody gets angry when they run out during drills that are mandatory for everyone else. When it’s time to go back in the field, every enemy who looks their way is taken down easily or beaten to a pulp for putting one scratch on the whumpee. After a couple months, the whumpee holds their own. Things are okay.
Tw: mention of sh and c*tting
I think I unintentionally trained my dog (her name is Amber) to be a service dog. Whenever I feel upset, she’ll come sit in my lap and lay her head on my chest (like put lots of pressure for a little dogs head). She’ll let me squeeze and rock with her until I feel better. She won’t let me do that unless I feel very upset. Whenever I self harmed in the past, the next day after she saw me do it she would always get in my lap or otherwise make it difficult to cut. I mostly cut on my thighs before I go to sleep, I’m a pretty routine oriented person so she can pretty accurately guess when I’m about to do it. She has pretty bad anxiety herself, but will brave all loud noises and scary people if she knows I’m upset. Whenever I was upset I would hold on to her for dear life, put her head on my chest for comfort, and just learned from there? Don’t know how she learned to try to stop me on the self harm tho, I have done different forms of it for as long as I can remember so maybe she learned I hurt myself and tried to find a way to stop me? I have no idea. I just know she has been the best girl she can be, and I love my sweet old woman to death.