The Dogs Who Helped Me Get Sober
How Gidget, Scamp, Ikus, Cody, and Lola Carried Me Through the Darkness
Dear Son,
If you ever hear someone say, “They’re just dogs,”
they’ve never been saved by one.
Me? I was rescued five times.
Their names were Gidget, Scamp, Ikus, Cody, and Lola.
All small dogs with big hearts—who never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself.
During the hardest years of my life—after failed marriages, heavy drinking, and more loneliness than I ever let on—those dogs kept me from completely falling apart.
Back when I was still drinking, it was the dogs who gave me a reason to come home from the bar.
They needed to be let out. Fed. Snuggled.
And whether I deserved it or not—they were always glad to see me.
No matter how many bad decisions I made…
they waited for me.
And they loved me anyway.
Gidget, Scamp, and Ikus were all Pugs.
Little tanks with squished noses and soft souls.
Even when I was spiraling, I kept them close.
And no matter how low I got, I wasn’t truly alone.
They curled up with me in my recliner like it was our shared lifeboat.
That chair became my safe place—and I think it was theirs too.
They didn’t care if I was sober. They didn’t judge the wreckage of my life.
They just… showed up.
I lost all three dogs by the time I finally did get sober, but two more joined the story:
Cody (a Pug cross) and Lola (a Chihuahua cross).
From 2000 onward, those two stood by me during my rebuilding years.
The quiet strength of those dogs…
The comfort of having a heartbeat beside you when everything feels broken…
That’s something I’ll never be able to fully explain—but I’ll never forget it.
If I had a son, I’d want him to hear this…
Sometimes, the things that save us aren’t what we expect.
They don’t come wrapped in wisdom or wear white coats.
Sometimes, they come on four legs with stubby tails and stubborn loyalty.
If you ever feel like you’ve lost your way,
and the world feels cold and distant—
Look for something warm and real to hold onto.
A dog. A purpose. A promise.
Something to come home for.
Something that needs you, even if you don’t feel needed.
Sobriety, for me, started long before I got clean.
It started the moment I began showing up for someone else—even if that someone wore a fur coat and snored on my lap.
So no, they weren’t just dogs.
They were my lifeline.
And I owe them more than I can ever repay.
With love,
—Fred (GeezerWise)
📌 This letter was written by Fred Ferguson (GeezerWise). If it spoke to you, I’d love to hear back—just hit reply.
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—Fred [GeezerWise]