I never expected to be in this position, but I’m reaching out for help to save my dog, Honey Bear. She’s been with me for over five years and has gotten me through some of the hardest moments of my life. Right now, she needs emergency surgery for a serious medical issue, and I can’t afford the cost on my own.

If you’ve ever met Honey Bear, you know how special she is. If you haven’t, I’d love to tell you a little about her.

I brought Honey Bear home when she was just a few months old, after going through a traumatic experience. My therapist had recommended getting an emotional support animal, and when I met her, it just made sense. You know that whole “I didn’t choose her, she chose me” kind of thing? That was us.

She’s now 5½ years old, and she means the world to me. She’s been with me through anxiety, panic attacks, grief, and everything in between. She’s not just a dog. She’s the reason I kept going when I didn’t think I could.

She’s one of the happiest, friendliest dogs you’ll ever meet. Her favorite foods are rotisserie chicken and hot dogs, but she’ll jump through fire for a marshmallow. She wants to be everyone’s friend, and she’s convinced everyone wants to be hers. She shows love in completely different ways depending on the person. For some, it’s knocking them over with excitement. For others, it’s quietly sitting on their feet. And sometimes, it’s climbing right into someone’s lap like she’s still ten pounds. No matter how she greets you, you’ll leave covered in Bear fur and better for it. She’s always had a big, goofy smile on her face.

Until this week.

A few days ago, Honey Bear started straining to pee. She was clearly uncomfortable, so I took her to the vet. They scanned her top to bottom, ran tests, and found bladder stones. Not just a few but a lot. They told me that if she stopped being able to pee at all, it would become an emergency.

Now she can’t pee. She’s in pain. She’s restless and scared. And for the first time in her life, I saw fear in her eyes instead of that doofy, happy look she always has.

I rushed her to the emergency vet, and the estimate for surgery and hospitalization came back between $9,500 and $11,500. I’ve exhausted everything I have and maxed out what I could just to get her this far. I don’t have the savings or credit to cover the rest.

Honey Bear has saved me in more ways than I can count. She’s my best friend and my constant. I just want to give her the chance to feel good again and live the full, happy life she deserves.

If you’re able to donate, even just a few dollars, or share this with someone who might be able to help, it would mean more than I can explain.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for caring about Honey Bear.