The Cookie which Healed Me: A Story of Silent Strength, Unspoken Love, and Unshakable Presence

There are moments in life when words fail. When the ache is so deep, no therapy, no book, no person can reach it.

And in those moments, it wasn’t a human who held me. It was my sweet little dog, who goes by the name - Cookie 

Not just a pet. Not just a companion. But a soul tethered to mine in a way I still don’t fully understand.

This isn’t just a story about a dog.

This is a story about healing, loyalty, presence, and the kind of love that saved me when I couldn’t save myself.

A Silent Witness to My Storms

I didn’t plan on becoming a dog mom. He came into my life when I was already stretched thin — emotionally, physically, spiritually. I was barely holding it together between the very many things happening in my life. 

And then came this four-legged creature with eyes that seemed to say, “I see you.”

He didn’t need me to explain why I was crying in the kitchen at 2 a.m., why I couldn’t speak, or why I had nothing left to give. He simply stayed. Curled up beside me. Present. Still. Steady.

In a world that demanded I be strong, professional, and productive — he gave me permission to be raw, messy, and human.

When the World Went Quiet, He Didn’t

Grief doesn’t knock on your door politely. It storms in.

The loss of a loved one. The failed business ventures we prayed so hard for. The days when the clinic felt like too much and the silence of my own home felt like a trap.

He stayed.

He stayed through every panic attack I never spoke about.

He stayed when I needed to scream into the void but didn’t.

He stayed when I felt like I was failing everyone — including myself.

And somehow, he knew when I needed to be held — not by words or solutions, but by warm fur and slow breathing. His heartbeat became my anchor.

He reminded me what it meant to simply be.

The Daily Acts of Love That Saved Me

People often talk about how dogs are loyal, but what they don’t say enough is how healing they are. The science agrees too — interactions with dogs can lower cortisol levels, reduce heart rate, and release oxytocin, the “bonding hormone.”

But beyond science, there was something spiritual about our connection.

•  The way he sensed my sadness before I admitted it to myself.

•  The way he’d place his paw on my hand when I sat too still for too long.

•  The way he made me laugh — belly-laugh — on days I didn’t think I could even smile.

He brought routine to chaos. Morning walks when I didn’t want to get out of bed. Meals when I didn’t feel like eating. Play when I forgot joy.

My Companion in the Clinic’s Growing Pains

As I built THE BIRTHWAVE, my holistic women’s health and fertility clinic, it was exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure. There were delays. Finances. Staffing challenges. Moments where I questioned why I even started.

He’d sit beside me while I answered patient messages late at night. He never cared about my to-do list — only that I took a break and remembered I was more than a doctor or business owner.

He reminded me I was a human too.

And somehow, in showing up for him — feeding him, walking him, playing with him — I was showing up for myself.

He Taught Me the Medicine of Presence

In medical school, you’re taught diagnostics, procedures, and protocols. But he taught me something no textbook ever did: the healing power of presence.

Not doing. Not fixing.

Just being.

And isn’t that what every patient wants, at the core?

To be seen. To be held. To not be rushed, judged, or problem-solved — but to be felt, honored, understood.

The way he showed up for me, I now try to show up for my patients. Especially women navigating infertility, pregnancy loss, and the invisible wounds that come with hormonal challenges. His presence taught me to hold space better — not just with science, but with soul.

The Birth Partner I Didn’t Know I Needed

There were moments when I attended births feeling utterly drained. My body was present, but my spirit was heavy.

He always knew.

Coming home to him after a long night of labor, I was met not with questions, but with unconditional love. No matter what happened in that labor room, I was enough for him.

He’s never seen me as a “gynecologist” or “founder” or “healer.”

He just sees me. The real me. Without masks. Without achievements. Without needing to earn love.

My Dog, My Therapist, My Heart

 In therapy, we’re often asked to identify our safe space. For me, it’s not a place — it’s him.

His eyes when he looks at me.

His soft breath while sleeping next to me.

The weight of his head on my lap after a long day.

That’s home.

That’s healing.

That’s medicine.

What I’ve Learned from Him (That I Wish More Humans Knew)

1.   Love doesn’t always need words. Presence is enough.

2.   Healing doesn’t happen in a rush. It takes time, space, and safety.

3.   Joy is in the small things. A nap in the sun, a shared snack, a belly rub.

4.   You can be soft and strong. Vulnerability is not weakness — it’s the birthplace of connection.

5.   Connection heals. More than prescriptions, more than plans. It’s the glue of our nervous systems.

 

To Those Going Through Pain Right Now…

If you’re reading this and navigating grief, infertility, heartbreak, burnout — I see you.

Maybe your dog is your lifeline too.

Maybe you’re still searching for that one safe place.

Please know this: you deserve to be held.

Not just by a therapist or friend, but by life itself. By tiny miracles. By soft moments. By beings — furry or human — who don’t need you to explain your pain to love you through it.

A Love That Keeps Giving

My dog may not live forever.

But the love he’s shown me? That will.

It lives in how I show up for my patients now.

It lives in the way I hold my own heart with gentleness.

It lives in every woman I remind: You’re not alone.

Because I learned how to love myself — through the one being who never stopped loving me.

In Closing: The Realest Kind of Healing

I once thought healing came from medicine, from fixing what was broken.

But he taught me that healing also comes from love, from feeling seen in your brokenness, and still being worthy.

So to my dog — thank you.

For every silent night you held me.

For every wag that reminded me joy still exists.

For every lesson I never knew I needed.

You didn’t just heal me.

You made me whole.

❤️ Let’s Talk

Have you experienced this kind of bond — with a dog, a pet, or even a moment in nature that held you when the world didn’t?

Comment below or share your story with me.

Let’s keep reminding each other that love — in all its forms — heals.

 

Dr. Santoshi Nandigam

OBGYN | Fertility Specialist | Dog Mom | Founder, THE BIRTHWAVE

Holistic Women’s Health & Fertility Clinic – Chennai