An honest and deeply moving debut memoir about a young woman’s battle with depression and how her dog saved her life “Dog Medicine simply has to be your next must-read.” —Cheryl Strayed
At twenty-two, Julie Barton collapsed on her kitchen floor in Manhattan. She was one year out of college and severely depressed. Summoned by Julie’s incoherent phone call, her mother raced from Ohio to New York and took her home.
Haunted by troubling childhood memories, Julie continued to sink into suicidal depression. Psychiatrists, therapists, and family tried to intervene, but nothing reached her until the day she decided to do one hopeful thing: adopt a Golden Retriever puppy she named Bunker. Dog Medicine captures the anguish of depression, the slow path to recovery, the beauty of forgiveness, and the astonishing ways animals can help heal even the most broken hearts and minds.
Julie Barton's memoir, Dog Medicine, will be published July 19, 2016.
Pam Houston calls Dog Medicine, "honest, gloriously unselfconscious and compelling." Steve Almond says, "Julie Barton’s prose is lyrical and unflinching, a gorgeous howl in the darkness that leads the reader into the light." David Jauss says, "Dog Medicine is the most heartbreaking and heartwarming book I’ve read in years."
Julie has an MFA in writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts and she lives in the Bay Area with her husband, two children, and small menagerie of pets. For more information, visit byjuliebarton.com
Dog Medicine is a story of returning from the brink.
Julie’s book wrecked me in the best way. Her writing sings when she writes about Bunker and you want her to do anything for him. For those of us who love dogs, we know what a wag of the tail, a poke of the nose, a crawling into a lap can do for the spirit. A dog saves us without knowing he is doing so. He’s just being a dog, the rest is a kind of magic, which Julie captures so amazingly in Dog Medicine.
I have never sobbed while reading a book. Which is kind of crazy considering I was an English major, then a bookseller, then worked in publishing — which is to say, I have read a ton of books in my lifetime. But none made me have to move to another room so my sobbing wouldn’t wake my husband. None have made me sit on my couch in the dark and cry for a good while. Or cause my own dog to come and sit next to me. As if he knew I was crying for the author, a dog I never met, but also for him, for all he has done for me and for the day that will inevitably come — the day he is gone. It was a beautiful cry. One that made me appreciate my own lucky mental health and more deeply appreciate what my dog brings to my life.
This book is well worth your time. Maybe just don't read it in public. And if you do, bring an onion, a knife, and a cutting board so you can blame it on that.
I was previewing this for my daughter, who burdened with chronic illness has a special and healing bond with her animals ( especially her rescued Pit Bull Luna) and will totally be able to relate here. This is Julie Landon's ( 2015) memoir about Bunker Hill the lovable, oafish, Golden Retriever who though partially broken himself , helps her recover from clinical depression. Landon has a MFA in writing , so along with being inspirational it's nicely written too. 3.5 stars
Thanks to everyone who recommended other good books with a similar theme ( healing power of animals) for my daughter. Much appreciated !!!
I was greatly moved by Julie's story of resiliency in the face of severe depression, and thrilled to be introduced to the dog who helped restore her to life, the unforgettable and irresistible Bunker. A glorious memoir, one I highly recommend for anyone who struggles with moods, loves dogs, or just is up for a great read. I feel extraordinarily grateful to have read an advance copy of this book, which I feel is destined to become a classic in the annals of wellness literature.
oh julie barton. what happened to your rabbit? i guess that's what i'd like to know. i know the book isn't called 'rabbit medicine,' but living in new york, before your mental breakdown, you had a rabbit you kept in a small cage. you carted it back to ohio with you. then you never mentioned it again. i guess that mistreatment of an animal is what impacted me the most about this book. i work at a bookstore on weekends and staring at me from the 'new release' table was a copy of 'dog medicine.' i saw the subtitle and thought, well shit, this seems like a book i should read. so i skimmed bits and pieces of it during my shift, and i thought why not. i bought it. i understand what depression does to you. believe me. maybe i am as unlikeable of a character in my own life as you wind up being in your memoir. trying to get better, even with the help of a dog purchased from a breeder (ugh) barton still makes destructive choices in an attempt to push away anyone who shows her kindness. i've never used the expression 'trigger warning' before, but a story like this should come with one. we adopted a companion rabbit who had a lot of health problems and then passed away a year after we thought we were in the clear. despite my efforts to move beyond my grief, this book inadvertently brought back a lot of those feelings of hopelessness.
Dog Medicine is more a journal than a novel. Therein lies my problem with it. The author describes her experiences growing up, her journey through clinical depression with suicidal ideation, and her eventual attachment to her dog. Depressed people can be self centered, it's one of the characteristics of the disorder. It is difficult to get outside your own head if what is in your head is terrifying, dangerous and chaotic. That singular point of view doesn't really make for a great book. The author honestly paints a picture of a fairly self centered and privileged life, and she describes her journey step by step. She relates her abuse at the hand of her older brother, and the way she invested her mental health and her very life in the well being of her dog. Indeed, dogs have proven to be useful in therapy, and service dogs have helped many patients cope with PTSD, autism, and many other conditions. I admit to weeping at a part of this book, but even though I was touched by some of the events, the telling of the story was a little too subjective and personal for me to consider it a great read. While I am sure that writing this was therapeutic for the author, we unfortunately only hear the story from her point of view. I am very pleased to learn that she has had a successful life and has overcome, or learned to live with, her depression. I am truly happy that she was able to derive so much comfort and strength from the love for her dog. Is a dog a panacea for mental health? Probably not. Dogs die eventually. We can't put all our hope in a dog or any another individual. But a dog can be a helpful part of a recovery plan that includes consistent treatment such as therapy, medication, and medical supervision.
Wonderful must-read book about the soulful love and loyalty between a woman and her golden retriever, and their healing relationship. Picked this up at the thrift. Highly recommend.
I wanted to love this book but hated it. The writing style and unlikeability of the narrator, I could live with...but I got halfway through and had to stop because I was so bothered by the inconsistencies in the writer's attitudes towards animals (see: her childhood dogs, her bunny, her rescue dog in NYC...) And reading the last chapter, her selfishness in the face of Bunker's end of life suffering made me furious. I am glad some people have connected with this story and found it helpful, but I haven't so strongly disliked a book in a long time and wouldn't recommend it.
If this rating was just for Bunker, I give him five stars - I loved stories about him and what a good boy he is (oh yes he is! Who's a good boy? Who is? You are, Bunker!!) However, we don't really get to meet Bunker until about 100 pages into the book. This is Julie's story, and how the pup changed her life. I won this book in a Goodreads giveaway and I will admit to signing up for the giveaway after seeing the cover. I was a sucker for Bunker before the book was in my hand.
Julie's story begins with her debilitating depression following her breakup with a boyfriend she'd moved to New York to be with. I give her credit for exposing herself in this way, as it can't be easy for a writer to open herself up like she has. Perhaps it's due to my own experience, but I didn't find her struggles enlightening as much as I felt some residual depression and darkness in reading about her struggle. I was waiting for some moments of self-awareness, but instead read so many chapters of her treating herself poorly, and many times treating others poorly as well. I'm sure it's accurate, but it was harder for me to get through as it began to feel repetitive. I finished the book this evening with one hand holding the book and the other petting my dad's 11-year dog who moved in with me last year when he became too sick to take care of him. My own dose of dog medicine.
I'm halfway through; it's a wide open hearteded & spiritual read. If you believe in the mystical connection we share with the animal world, if you like authentic literary voices, read this lovely book. On finishing Julie's book, not only did I weep like a baby, I was enriched. The reader walks away not only with having read a wonderful memoir, but also with an extra shot of faith in the possibility for healing the soul with connection, wherever it's found.
I hesitated to even review this book, because I didn't like the main character, who is, because this is a memoir, the author. Maybe I wasn't as sympathetic to her depression as I should be, granted. But her savior, the most important being in her life, didn't even SHOW UP until almost halfway into the book. For the first half of the book, I had to read, over and over again, about her abuse, her desire to commit suicide, all the problems and issues that she endured. Then, and this is the part that really made me almost quit reading the book, she waited FOUR MONTHS to take her dog to the vet after the first indication that he needed help. Given how important he purportedly was to her, her unwillingness to do the simplest, kindest thing for her beloved dog simply smacked of hypocrisy. Ok, she had issues. Got it. But seriously? If you are planning to read this book because you think it's going to be a feel-good story of a woman and her dog, I say, don't. Read Amazing Gracie, by Dan Dye, instead.
I am going to rate Dog Medicine 4 stars as a ‘dog’ book. From the standpoint of a true story of a lady dealing with and recovering from depression, I give it 5 stars. I am always impressed when people can completely bare their soul and story. I know it is the best way for others to learn and deal with their own stuff, and we all have stuff.
As I often do with my reviews, I will add some excerpts from the book, first on her depression and then on the dog:
‘The sorrow on that lonely walk back to my apartment was like the strike of lightning that cracked the dam. I didn’t know this then, but depression can be like a slow leak. Once the dam’s hit, water starts to seep through and as the days and weeks go by, the crack grows bigger.’
‘Then, as was my habit, I placed this diagnosis right next to all the other diagnoses I’d absorbed over the years. Ugly, Weird, Stupid, Fat, Unlikable, please meet your newest teammate: Depressed.’
‘My favorite place was officially the dark crease between the cushions on the back of the couch. My face felt best pushed deep into that crack. Sensory deprivation had become the only way to comfort myself. I needed to be alone with no light, no sounds, no smells, and as little air circulation as possible. The breeze from an opened door hurt my skin.’
Then hope comes in the form of a golden retriever puppy:
'I studied each page with surprising focus and found myself returning to golden retrievers: easy to train, loyal, big, great running partners, and beautiful. A family dog. My new family.'
‘In that moment, of course, I knew. There he was. I hadn’t been forced to choose; I’d been chosen. I picked him up and he licked my nose. He smelled like dirt and metal and wet dog. My dog had found me.’
‘It was as if the moment I picked him up, I felt lifted. Already I couldn’t fathom the thought of ever letting him go. I felt a perceptible shift the moment I met him. A reuniting. A lifting. A glimpse of hope.’
‘The blackness fizzled when I touched this dog, and in their place appeared a quite calm.’
‘I couldn’t imagine treating myself kindly, with gentle understanding. But I could, without question, do that for my dog. Perhaps part of what began to save me was that I started creating this sacred, safe space where he and I met. In this space, there was not ridicule. There was no doubt or loneliness. There was no sorrow or anger. It was just pure, beautiful being. It was us looking at the world with wide-eyed, forever hopeful puppy wonder.’
‘I took a deep breath and felt the blackness loosen its grip. Dog medicine. I’d found it, and I swallowed it whole.’
When you go down a long rough path with someone, it feels great when you can find a way to pull out of the darkness with them. We can learn with them. Even though stupid mistakes. It gives us hope we can pull out of stuff we may have to deal with it. I particularly liked this lesson we have to remind ourselves of:
‘What if I just decided that all of those mistakes were teachings? Maybe all of those choices I’d made were so that I could learn that what I wanted wasn’t drama and sorrow, just love: love in the way Bunker gave love. Unconditional. No expectations. No strings. Just love, because what is more beautiful than that?’
In summary, if you are looking for a ‘dog’ book I may recommend other books, depending on what you like, but if you like a nice true-life story of recovery and hope (with a dog) then I would recommend this book. It is one currently in Wesley Banks ‘100 best dog stories of all time’ so I can check off having read another one from that list, but I disagree with it being one of the best ‘dog’ stories though.
PS: if you are one who doesn’t like to read dog books when Kleenex is needed at the end of the book, then just don’t read the Epilogue. But you would miss other great stuff that is in the Epilogue. But really, I just recommend you getting over the inevitable we all have to face in order to enjoy all the great joy that is a dog, or that is in a great book with a dog.
Julie Barton is schrijver en woont in Californië met haar man en twee kinderen. Ze publiceerde artikelen in onder meer The Huffington Post. Mijn hond, mijn redding is haar debuut.
Het boek gaat over Julie Barton. Als ze op 22-jarige leeftijd instort op de keukenvloer van haar appartement in New York, ziet ze in dat het zo niet langer kan. Een psychiater stelt vast dat Julie, dan net afgestudeerd en begonnen met haar eerste baan, lijdt aan een ernstige depressie. Hoewel therapeuten, familie en vrienden haar proberen te helpen, lijkt niemand in staat haar te bereiken. De weg uit de duisternis begint pas met de komst van een golden retriever-pup, die ze Bunker noemt. Hij is een reden om op te staan, omdat Julie voor hem moet zorgen. Barton schrijft helder en rauw over de schijnbare uitzichtloosheid van een depressie.
Ik ben een liefhebber van boeken met dieren, maar ik had met dit boek heel veel moeite om er in te komen. Richting het einde toe wilde ik het dan wel weer meteen uit lezen. Daarom geef ik het ook 3 sterren.
Dette ble nok en i overkant subjektiv rating. Men boken må få toppscore fordi den så inderlig vakkert skildrer betydningen en hund kan ha. Boken utgjør en hyllest til disse vakre skapningene, som fyller livene våre med betingelsesløs kjærlighet og glede.
Hunden fortjener sannelig flere skriftfestede historier som denne! De av oss som har vært så heldige å få leve med en Bunker, vi vet hvor verdifullt et hundeliv er 🐾❤️
I should have trusted my gut and bailed on this when they bought the dog from a back yard breeder. And when the author glosses over how childhood pets died, and what ever happened to that poor rabbit? As a person who shares a lot in common with the author (love of dogs & Seattle, long history of terrible depression, complicated relationship with family, etc) I expected this book to speak to me. Unfortunately it just made me mad over and over. This is a selfish account of a young woman's need to be constantly saved by others and ignore the needs of others. After many incidents that made her wonder if she should take Bunker to the vet (YES, if you are wondering if your pet needs to go to the vet, you should already be there), she finally takes him in to find he has the worst case of hip displasia the vets had ever seen (this is why we do not buy dogs from back yard breeders!!!). She puts him through two terrible, painful surgeries. Then we really don't get to hear much about the rest of his life. At the end of his life, he is suffering and she prolongs his suffering, "I had 24 hours to come to terms with his death," -- no, she had 11 years to come to terms with it and the responsibility to not let her dog suffer. The most important thing we can do for our animals is to put our desire to keep them alive for our own selfishness aside and end their suffering. Death is not the worst thing that can happen, suffering is -- a person with depression should know that better than anyone. Yes, it hurts like hell to make that decision, but that is the deal you sign up for when you love a dog. I stuck with the book to the end, thinking there'd be some kind of lessons learned wrap up (like why you should not buy a dog from a back yard breeder at least? how she gave back to others with depression? ) but there was none of that.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Oddly for a memoir about a relationship for an animal, the dog's personality doesn't come through very clearly; he never truly features as a well-rounded character. The book may be of greater appeal to those who are interested in the mental health aspects of the story. There were quite a few moments where the author's choices seemed to be primarily about what she wanted rather than putting the needs of the animal first (disappointment that a petrified rabbit wouldn't go for a walk on the busy streets of NYC, ignoring her dog's alarming medical symptoms for many months). I was hoping the epilogue would contain a few words of advice about animal health, for example the reasons why it is wise to avoid backyard breeders and, if you are going to buy a purebred puppy, choose a reputable breeder who will screen for health issues such as the one her dog suffered from. I wondered if she ever reflected on the wisdom of her family's decision to locate a puppy via a newspaper ad and then purchase one from someone who would sell to a family without all the preliminary background checks, home visits, etc. that responsible breeders engage in. The narration in the audio version is very flat.
Got to page 45 and decided this is not a book that I want to continue reading. Life is tough enough without struggling through a blow by blow description of this woman's breakdown and flashbacks to the abuse she suffered in childhood. As another reviewer stated she was hoping for a book about the healing love of a dog. I know eventually the dog will show up in the story, but when I went to write this review I saw in other reviews that the poor dog has health issues. Nope. Next book I read will be uplifting. I will pass on this one.
Childhood trauma left author Julie Barton with crippling negative self-talk and a major depressive breakdown. Leaving behind her New York City job and unhealthy love affair she returned to her Ohio family. With help from her parents, doctors, and therapists she underwent treatment. But it was the love for a dog, Bunker Hill, that ultimately gave Barton purpose and the unconditional love she desperately needed.
Barton audaciously takes a chance on life again, with Bunker at her side. When Bunker is discovered to have a congenital defect she had to choose to save his life through painful and expeensive surgeries, or euthanize him.
I read Dog Medicine: How My Dog Saved Me From Myself, A Memoir, for National Dog Day. Barton describes her life long struggle with self esteem and depression with no holds, vividly exposing depression's insiduous destruction. Her chronicle culminates in the salvation found in a warm body with big brown eyes, the joy of a puppy's unconditional love. Barton also must learn to trust herself and to accept that forgiveness, of one's self as well as forgiving others, is a necessary part of moving on.
"What if I decided that all of those mistakes were teachings? Maybe all of those choices I'd made were so that I could learn that what I wanted wasn't drama and sorrow, just love, love in the way Bunker gave love. Unconditional. No expectations. No strings. Just love, because what is more beautiful than that?"
Dog lovers, anyone who has struggled with depression or self esteem issues or childhood abuse, and those who enjoy honest and beautifully written memoirs will enjoy Dog Medicine.
I have some experience with depression and what it can do to people, so I opened this book with caution bordering on skepticism. What could Dog Medicine tell me that I didn't already know? What I discovered was not new truth about clinical depression. Instead, Barton gives us a lesson in mercy. Sometimes in life (on the internet, in self-help, in therapy) we are reminded to be merciful to ourselves. But here, what got me crying late at night was a demonstration of the unbounded mercy and mystery of animals and what happens when we let them do their work. They are better than us at love, and this being good at love (yes, as if it were a skill) is indicated quietly, in subtle, animal ways. It's patient and non-judgmental and thorough. The sweetness of dogs can read like a primer for us. Barton's writing flutters between simple and poetic. It's always honest. It's always a heartfelt effort to share her love with Bunker with us. This seems like the natural reaction to having been saved by someone or something: a thank-you note. A love letter. Closing the book, I felt Bunker's loss, too.
I received an ARC through Goodreads. --- Wow! That was an intense and inspirational read. Depression is no joke, and it is becoming widely acknowledged.
I love how Julie wove her story and her struggle with that of Bunker. It was like them coming together was meant to be, they were clearly made to be there for each other. You can feel the unconditional love and support between the two, especially during the rough, dark and ugly times. Depression is not easily understood, but Julie somehow managed to give us a glimpse of it and allows us the readers to peek into the mind of someone suffering from depression.
It is amazing how a pet (more like a friend) can be your lifeline and help push away those demons and provide unlimited comfort and love. Bunker certainly loved a very happy life, even through his painful surgeries (which I teared up and winced every step of the way as Julie describes everything).
Thank you Julie, for sharing your story of your battle with depression and how Bunker lighted your way to taming those bad thoughts and finding happiness.
While this might be a good story about a relationship with a dog, it is a hugely oversimplified book for those dealing with major depression. The author never discusses with her parents, let alone her brother, the severe physical abuse by her brother that she suffered for years as a child and that her parents clearly knew about. She has therapy for only a few months before heading off to a new city where she does not seek out a therapist for who knows how long. She takes one medication that seems to magically work when often it requires several different medication tries, as she acknowledges toward the end of the book. The dog does it all while the author skirted around/avoided too many issues that others with severe depression face. This is a story about a dog who helped one woman, but surely not a helpful story for others in her condition.
"It was hard to comprehend, but our meeting felt like two magnets clacking together, two universes colliding, two hands clasping. I was absolutely sure that this was my dog and that I was meant to find him...the way Bunker loved me, so fully, clearly, and without exception, helped me remember every day to try to bring that kind of love to myself and others in my life."
As somebody who has been lucky enough to love two extraordinary (and extraordinarily different) dogs, this book was like a jolt of lightning straight to my heart. I related to Barton's story on nearly every level and it left me feeling enormously grateful for the opportunity to have saved - and been saved by - two of the best dogs this world has ever seen.
As someone whose dog has also helped her cope with clinical depression, I wanted to like this book a lot more than I did. But like others have noted, I was turned off by her dismissive attitude to her other pets (what happened to that rabbit?!) and wish more time in the book would have been spent on Bunker stories rather than her dating life and other dramas. Bunker didn't seem like a fully developed character in the book, he was more like a prop.
**I received a copy of this book from the publishers via Goodreads Giveaways.**
I just finished the book and I am a sobbing mess. This book touched me greatly, but surprisingly not in the ways that the author probably anticipated. The moments that I really connected with weren't actually heavily related to her relationship with her dog (except at the end). Throughout my life, I have dealt with depression and anxiety and I am completely familiar with those all-consuming feelings of self-hate and complete darkness. I felt that Barton did a beautiful job at putting those feelings into words. I connected so deeply to her struggles not only before her official diagnosis, but also further on as she grapples with self-sabotage with her romantic relationships. I found Barton's writing to be poignant and heartfelt and I found myself cheering her on throughout her memoir, fully relating to her plight. Her constant emotional struggles, despite the feeling that her depression has gone away, and the way she distances herself from those around her really mirrored the way I lived through the darkest years of my life.
I really enjoyed the first half of the book, and found myself lacking that same connection during the beginning of the second half, once she gets her dog. I've never owned a pet before, nor had any sort of companion animal in my life and couldn't really relate to the way she took to caring for him and healed together with him. I do feel that those who have gone along more similar paths as Barton would find this book a wonderful message letting them know they are not alone. I'm so happy to have been able to read this book and reflect on my own mental illness, finding the strength to continue learning to be kinder to myself and to accept kindness as it comes.
I never knew i was a dog person, until i met my Homer. Just like Bunker, Homer came into my life at just the right time. When I met him, I knew immediately that he was supposed to be my dog. It was really one of the strangest experiences of my life.
I liked Bunker the dog more than the author. Despite the author's bout with depression, she presents herself as selfish in her decision-making. This is a sad story for both.