After rescuing my first family dog at the age of sixteen, I truly learned what it meant to be responsible for another being. Diagnosed by the veterinarian with an anxiety disorder, my family and I took our pet to a dog trainer in an attempt to reconcile her anxious personality with her new life in a busy household. After working together for a number of years on her anxious behavioral tendencies, she is now able to take walks in busy public spaces without an issue. Having cultivated a strong and lasting connection with the dog trainer, I took a job during the summer after my second year of college as the receptionist for the grooming salon she had recently opened. During that summer, I spent many hours not only answering the phones, scheduling appointments, and facilitating payments, but also interacting with individual dogs during the day's busiest hours, soothing the anxiety that washed over them as they walked through the salon doors and were met with the knowledge that they would have to be bathed, brushed, trimmed, and in some cases, shaved. Upon my return to college, I was hired by a local resident to walk her four dogs (two of which were under one, the other two over ten) twice a day on weekdays. I also frequently spent Saturdays through Sundays alone at her house with her dogs while she traveled overnight. During my last year of college, I continued this tradition by dog sitting for an elderly corgi who had a large, benign tumor that severely impeded her movement. We would often go for extremely short walks down a single city block at a mediated pace, spending most of our time together lounging outside in the sun in her owner's fenced-in backyard. Now newly graduated from college, I desire to once again enter the world of dog care.