My name is Isabella, and I’m almost 17 years old. I’ve been living with social anxiety for as long as I can remember—since before I was even five. When I was four and a half, my parents brought home a puppy who would end up changing my life. I still remember the moment we met—while I sat on the floor, she walked right over to me and fell asleep in my lap. From that moment on, we knew she was meant to be mine. We grew up side by side. She wasn’t just a pet—she was my best friend, my comfort, and truly like a sister to me. She seemed to understand me in a way no one else could. Without any training, she learned how to respond to my anxiety and helped me through so many difficult moments just by being there. After 12 years together, this past December, her health began to decline. Watching her go through that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. I knew what was coming, and I tried to prepare myself—to be strong for her the way she had always been for me—but nothing could have truly prepared me for losing her. The day we had to say goodbye completely broke me. For the first time, she wasn’t there when I needed her most. Even now, it’s hard to walk through my house and see reminders of her everywhere. Since then, I’ve struggled with worsening anxiety and depression. I’ve been seeing a psychologist weekly, and together we’ve come to the conclusion that a psychiatric service dog would be life-changing for me—both for my daily functioning and for the companionship I’ve lost. I’m now working to raise funds to bring home and trained a German Shepherd. My goal is $4,500 and truly, any amount of support means more than I can put into words.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story