That's Rocky, a motherfuckingly handsome boy. Everybody say hi.

If you've been following me, you'd know that I started fostering a dog recently.

He's been with me for a couple of months now and I must say he has had a major impact in my life.

He has aided me mentally, emotionally and allowed me to be a more productive person.

I am definitely no dog blogger, but here's my account on how great it is to have a pet. 

Also, don't expect many pictures of Rocky smiling and looking all happy, excited and shit because he's a lazy ass bitch at home.

An animalistic companion who fights off the anger

Pardon my blown-up face. This is where Rocky is usually at while I write.

For the past six years, I've been working from home as a blogger. 

I can honestly say that a large amount of that time was spent being very miserable. I was always angry and I never really knew how to deal with it.

There were many days where I didn't want to get out of bed because I knew it was just going to another bad day. When I was out of bed, I'd rage and end up destroying shit around the house or slamming my fists on the table.

Why? I don't rightly know. I was just pissed, but I guess I brought it upon myself as I constantly ruminated over and over again about the shit I can never seem to let go of.

But with Rocky around now, the rumination, revenge fantasies and broodiness has been reduced drastically.

Why? Because... just because.

Someone who's there for you and beside you truly can make it better for you.

And it's not like you need someone to talk to you, cheer you on or feed you motivational quotes.

You just need something or someone to, for the lack of a better word, distract you.

This is why I strongly believe that humans need to work. 

As much as you hate capitalism, big corporations, the nine-to-five, society or your job, you need to work.

I'd be the first to admit that being unemployed and pursuing my own venture at home has forcibly caused myself to be isolated to the point that my thoughts got the better of me. Heck man, thinking, "I hate people" was more common than I'd like to admit. 

So if you hate your job, well, just know that somewhere within your little office, cubicle or in the middle of your commute, it's actually keeping you sane.

Rocky really helped me a lot here as I stopped focusing on myself so much. Indeed, when you stop looking inwards all the time you stop dwelling on yourself. You realize there's a life out there; that the answer is out there.

And all it takes is one little nudge in the right direction.

For my case, in the midst of writing, I'd just turn over to look at him or play with him a little. 

The nights are better since Rocky sleeps besides me on my bed. Yes, he does. He just decided to dominate the bed from Day One. And god damn, that horizontal body of his keeps taking up space. Only recently did he think it was okay to growl at me when I tried to push his ass off. I punished him by making him sleep outside.

The learning journey of having a pet

I don't even where to start on the lifestyle changes I have made since Rocky came into my life. 

I wake up before noon now so I can walk him. Yes, I wake up in the afternoon mostly usually. I also walk him at night.

I had to learn how to bathe him. I do it once every ten to fourteen days now otherwise the house would smell like dog.

I had to make sure that he crapped and peed downstairs on grass.

I had to deal with the anxiety of leaving him alone the first time in the house. For the first few times, he barked loudly. That was rather stressful.

I had to learn how to clean after him and wipe his ass at home.

I had to learn how to feed him regularly. 

I had to deal with some minimal panic within myself when he started barking at other people or dogs outside.

All of this may sound basic, but for me, the stress and anxiety certainly did set in. I was just afraid I'd be a bad human to him and he'd suffer because of me. 

Fun story: When Rocky arrived, for some reason the previous caretakers told me they forgot if they fed him. Since I didn't want to kick up a fuss or risk Rocky being hungry, I fed him. 

Well apparently they did feed him. Because Rocky proceeded to crap a total of eight fucking times in the living room, my mom's room, downstairs and even once when I was crossing the road during the next 12 hours.

Sure enough though, having a pet is not easy. It's a fucking huge responsibility. But as with being an adult, once you take up the mantle of responsibility, good things will come to your life. 

Unfortunately, from what I learnt, not all people are responsible humans or at least aiming to be one.

I was told that Rocky is considered not very adoptable. Why? Because people are fussy assholes.

Most are not looking to take up the mantle. They're only shopping.

If I tell them that Rocky has crapped in the house, barks at strangers, pulls very strongly during his walks or is bigger than a piglet, people would be like, "Oh my god no, I don't want that. I want a cute little dog I can play with you know?"

I am not trying to toot my horn here, but if that is your mentality, get a fish or go play The Sims.

I ain't got shit on dog lovers and I am nowhere close

Pretty much how Rocky is like around the house if he's not in my room

I've to say that I am a person who likes dogs.

But for people who loves dogs? Wow. You cannot imagine the amount of care and concern they have for them.

I've been thanked repeatedly and given free shit consistently because of this huge "favor" I am doing for helping Rocky. 

I even said that I was very thankful because Rocky was a great companion for me, but they insisted that I helped more.

I've developed a huge respect for people who put their heart and soul for animals (except PETA. PETA should eat animal crap.) 

A friend took me and Rocky to a pet grooming centre to get his nails clipped because they were sharp as hell. Rocky was like Wolverine from X-men and they stung whenever he climbed on me! Inside, I was helpless as fuck. Rocky struggled a lot. I was stressed out, but everyone else there knew what to do as they lovingly soothed Rocky.

When your mom passively aggressive okays everything

Initially, my mom:

• Forbade me from going out at night because she didn't want to be alone with Rocky.
• Refused to help feed him.
• Refused to walk him.
• Complains how much fur there is around the house.

Today, she:

• Sends me pictures of Rocky telling me what he's up to.
• Asks me when I am walking him so she can tag along.
• Is confidently now able to walk him alone. Apparently, they go jogging.
• Talks to Rocky.
• Talks to others about Rocky.
• Asks me if I have fed him.

I am really glad that Rocky has benefited her. She is able to exercise more, although she complained once that Rocky pulled her so hard that her ass "twisted", whatever the fuck that means. She said she doesn't feel so scared alone at home now. 

She looks happier.

What I enjoy most is hearing her complain loudly about how Rocky kept bugging her by licking her or sniffing her from my room. It's only the three of us in the house today. If you ask me, that's unity and it's all love as you can hear one another.

I clearly remember the point of no return for my mom. She came home from work one evening and while complaining to me about the fur, smell and whatever, she started to pat Rocky. That took me by surprise as it was the first time I saw her do it. The funny part was, she did it with a grouchy face, one that looked as if she was smelling a fart. If that's not passive aggression, I don't know what is.

Intermission: Here's a series of gifs called, "Rocky The No-Fucks Given Dog." 

Or how I annoy the hell out of him

I've honestly come to think that adult males who are still scared of dogs are pussies

Rocky after me scolding him for biting my bolster and even then, I don't think he's a pussy

I actually wrote about this on my Facebook account to some fanfare. It pissed some guys off and also some ladies because I compared guys and fear of dogs to their genitals.

But I am really not sorry I wrote that. Also, I am not prepared to argue at all.

I am just going to say, "COME ON GUYS! Seriously, just come the fuck on." You're supposed to carry guns to fight wars and shit for fuck's sake.

Other friends then told me that I was being too hard, the main argument being that there's a difference of having a dislike for dogs and a fear of them.

Honestly, all I hear is that there is a clean disrespect for animals right there. And if you disrespect animals, you disrespect life and you hence have no respect for yourself.

At this point, if you're still angry with what I wrote, you ought to chill the fuck out because there's going to be an animal out there you'd love! That is a great thing! Perhaps a Gorrilla? No seriously, fall in a love with another life and I don't think you'd see the need to be pissed off with words from the internet. 

Since I started walking Rocky, I've had to deal with many evil stares and looks of disgusts from many guys. And they were all adult males who looked fit. One guy decided to slam shut the gate of the tennis court he was in and waited for me to walk by. Another abruptly stood his ground and changed directions altogether. Jesus.

To many evolutionary years ahead

I'm proud to say that I'll adopt Rocky and bring him into the family. I'm currently looking into it.

Maybe this post has been a little dramatic, if not somewhat sentimental.

Maybe it's crazy to some even, especially to people who don't give a hoot about animals.

Maybe I am just rambling.

But at the very least, I can say for certain I've been a lot happier than the last few years.

Whether you want to get a pet or not is up to you. It's already a cliche to say that it's a huge responsibility.

It is after all, a life.

Perhaps then, you can consider adding some life in your life.

I bet it'd be fucking amazing.

Peace.