One More Whistle

That fog rolls in again. You wake up and can't get out of bed. Energy is gone. Motivation is gone. Everything feels pointless. You stare at the ceiling, thoughts looping, body heavy, wondering how you're supposed to make it through the day. Minutes pass. Hours pass. The longer you stay there, the worse the guilt gets. Then you feel it: the gentle weight of your cat curling against your side or the soft nudge of your dog's nose on your hand. They are right there, warm, breathing, present. They do not demand explanations or fixes. They just need you to move toward them, even a little, because their world is built around your care. The food bowl waits. The toy waits. The quiet companionship waits. In those low moments, the simple knowledge that another living being depends on you for basics can be the one thing strong enough to push back against the pull of staying still. Research on pet ownership during depression and anxiety shows that this responsibility often becomes a lifeline: it cr