people who never stop complaining can make you crazy. here's what maybe we don't know: people who never stop complaining can make you dumb.
wellthinkaboudit! it makes sense...explains a lot.
i wouldn't have chosen to be in the test group for this particular study, but it's interesting, what they found. apparently brain chemistry actually changes when a person is exposed to too much negative talk. the decrease of certain natural enzymes leads to negativity, depression, anger and ultimately to stupidity. OMG! Stop watching Fox right now!! Stop watching network TV all together cause the news is always bad and the reality shows are worse. Stay away from AOL, too, unless you just have to hear it one more time how some actress fell down drunk and slipped a mammary or how one crack addicted man ate an entire pizza by himself without sharing. A healthy alternative is to watch cartoons. I recommend the series "Peep" which is insanely wonderful, as well as "Roly Poly Oly" and "Kipper the Dog". For movies, try Disney classics like "Jungle Book". Sing along whenever possible.
but i digress. i think what they missed in that study is that negativity is also addictive. for some folks, once they've had that first hit of adrenalin that comes with reliving an offense, they just can't stop without reliving all the bad they've got. depending on age and how well they've kept score, all they've got can be a lot. my mom, for example,...lotta years, meticulous score card. as she talks, i fantasize just slowly standing up and then running as hard and fast as i can, straight into the wall.
i am aware that i feel all kinds of negative by the end of a 2 day visit with her. that's why i drive 10 hours each way, instead of flying. i don't want to get home before i've recovered and it never fails that there's something along the way to distract me, something in nature that serves as a defrag for all the static i've absorbed. at various times, it's been a starving stray by the side of the road that i've tried to catch or at least to feed and then to pray for, the rest of the way home. and more than once i've had a hawk swoop low and close across my line of sight, raising my spirit as it lifts toward heaven.
often, the dogs at the shelter do that for me, as well. i went in today with a accumulation of small irritations and though i wasn't doing it out loud, inside my head i was starting to whine. my phone's lost and my basement's wet, how bad will it get? how bad will it get? even as i walked the dogs, i was stuck in the frustration/self-pity conversation. what brought me back to the moment was a medium sized shepherd mix named Arizona, who cowered at the back of the kennel, flinching as i reached for her and then crouching through the lobby but who, when we'd been outside for a while, walking in the rain, through the tall grass, suddenly started hopping with joy. she'd prance a few steps, pause to look back at me to see if it was ok and then spring forward like a bunny - all 4 feet in the air. At one point, she did 3 bunny hops in a row and i can't tell you how good it made me feel...how i laughed out loud and how much i wanted to hop right along with her, for the sheer silliness of it.
maybe i'll do that next time...cause hopping will be good for me as cardiovascular training, cause it might entertain passing motorists and also cause i'm pretty sure that if they did a study, they'd find that a little bit of silly is the perfect antidote to a lot of whine.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
I was havin a little dry spell there...
unable to share my thoughts with you because i was pretty much unable to have any, past some complicated personal stuff. and i can't promise i'll be back tomorrow but tonight, i thought i'd catch you up on doggie developments right after i say thanks for putting up with my ramblings about my mother and world peace.
the pups, raleigh and ember, have each been adopted by adoring families. corabelle, meantime, has been spayed and she came through the surgery just fine but she's having trouble adjusting to her babies being gone. it's wrenching to see her continue to search for them. the sound of coyote pups in the nearby woods set her off the other night and i'm still sweeping up pieces of the back door she shredded, trying to get outside.
i'll be honest, my first reaction to seeing the destruction, which also included several window screens and a variety of rugs, was to say "that's it. i can't have this dog in my house." i notified the shelter that i would have to either return her or take her to another foster home. but after i burned out with whining and cussing, i had a think. and what i thought was this: i've taken away her babies. she has no way of understanding why that happened. she just knows they're gone and she's crazy with grief.
when you consider the stuff we do to the animals in our care, even when it's for their welfare, it's remarkable that they're able to forgive us. i was focused on weaning the pups and making them available for adoption while they still had the advantage of being irresistibly adorable. the fact is that the older they get, the harder it is to find them homes and here i was with all my personal issues cranking up and it felt increasingly important to find placements for raleigh and ember. i was doing what i needed to do and trying not to think too much about the parts i couldn't change...like how it might feel to cora.
a while back i wrote about her being a good mom. turns out, she was a much more dedicated mother than i gave her credit for being. turns out, she loved her babies intensely and with her entire being and it hurts my heart to see how she's suffering. so i'll get the doors fixed and the rugs cleaned and i'll keep cora with me for as long as it takes to find her the right home. she really is a good, sweet dog and what's making her act so desperate is not who she is but what i've done to her.
the pups, raleigh and ember, have each been adopted by adoring families. corabelle, meantime, has been spayed and she came through the surgery just fine but she's having trouble adjusting to her babies being gone. it's wrenching to see her continue to search for them. the sound of coyote pups in the nearby woods set her off the other night and i'm still sweeping up pieces of the back door she shredded, trying to get outside.
i'll be honest, my first reaction to seeing the destruction, which also included several window screens and a variety of rugs, was to say "that's it. i can't have this dog in my house." i notified the shelter that i would have to either return her or take her to another foster home. but after i burned out with whining and cussing, i had a think. and what i thought was this: i've taken away her babies. she has no way of understanding why that happened. she just knows they're gone and she's crazy with grief.
when you consider the stuff we do to the animals in our care, even when it's for their welfare, it's remarkable that they're able to forgive us. i was focused on weaning the pups and making them available for adoption while they still had the advantage of being irresistibly adorable. the fact is that the older they get, the harder it is to find them homes and here i was with all my personal issues cranking up and it felt increasingly important to find placements for raleigh and ember. i was doing what i needed to do and trying not to think too much about the parts i couldn't change...like how it might feel to cora.
a while back i wrote about her being a good mom. turns out, she was a much more dedicated mother than i gave her credit for being. turns out, she loved her babies intensely and with her entire being and it hurts my heart to see how she's suffering. so i'll get the doors fixed and the rugs cleaned and i'll keep cora with me for as long as it takes to find her the right home. she really is a good, sweet dog and what's making her act so desperate is not who she is but what i've done to her.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Florida
is not one of my favorite places. i'm more a temperate weather, non man-eating-alligator-in-your-kiddie-pool kind of person.
i recently returned from my second trip to the sunshine state in 3 weeks. I have an ailing brother and an 89 year old mother living there and as you might imagine, things are getting complicated. my mom lives alone, by her own choice, in a too big house with too many maintenance issues and too much yard to care for. what was reaffirmed for me on this last visit was that i am powerless to affect that. it's well past time for her to make some changes but it isn't going to happen so i am left with the prospect of more and frequent trips with the inevitable collapse of her shakey independence.
driving home, i searched the radio for distraction and stumbled on the Ted Talks hour on public radio. they were featuring innovative thinkers on the topic of education. one of the speakers was a man named John Hunter, who teaches 3rd grade in Charlottesville Va. and who has created "The World Peace Game".
what he does is remarkable. in the game, which he's been teaching for 30 years, his kids assume positions of political power, representing various countries, and they're presented with some complex and interconnected, real time, real world problems. as he says proudly, various classes have solved the global warming crisis in 5 days or less. they have all the choices that are available, theoretically anyway, to the rest of us....declare war...send aid...unite for a common cause. what they don't have are the limitations of hard-wired "impossibles". and they're not hog-tied by looming prospects of re-election time. they're free to imagine possibilities. the game is won when all the problems have been solved and, at the same time, every country is better off financially than they were at the beginning of the game.
i'm not doing it justice and i urge you to google the actual talk. what struck me and the reason i'm bringing it up, is that the Mr. Hunter's ultimate goal with this game is to teach compassion. his hope is that by the end, the kids have realized that they're responsible for more than their own territories...that they're responsible for the fate of humankind. and the beauty is that, given a free hand in working out the issues, they seem to naturally come to that.
i'm reaching here, to connect this to my recent experience in Florida. it hasn't come clear, yet, but i know it has everything to do with the compassion piece.
it's easy to look at my mom and call her the problem. she's a difficult person and her behaviors have a huge impact on any well intentioned folks who try to help. but in a world of more highly functioning, fast moving, clear headed powerful younger people, each with their own agenda, about all she has to hold up in her own defense is a refusal to cooperate and she does that with no pretense of being a nice old lady. she's in your face and fighting mad, all the time. friends fall away. pretty soon its only the morally obliged who show up to try again.
so if my mom was a country, she'd be a dangerous one and a threat to world peace. Mr. Hunter told the story of a little girl who was the defense minister of a small, impoverished nation. She shocked the room by unexpectedly and unprovoked declaring war on a larger nation next to hers. Against all protests, she fought and won by surrounding and immobilizing their army in a surprise attack. It was only revealed later that the larger forces in question had been planning a global war, whereby they would take control, not just her country but of everyone else's as well. The little girl had been watching and reading the signs of coming aggression and she'd preempted it, essentially saving the world.
wow. talk about your lessons. it involves personal and collective sacrifice and an incredible level of confidence. it scares me cause it challenges my own absolute beliefs about the morality of war. and on a smaller scale, it challenges my obligations with regard to that dangerous territory i call my mom. she's still driving. that alone makes her a threat to the rest of the world and to herself.
at what point do i step in, surround and immobilize her to prevent something bad from happening? what's the compassionate choice? i dunno.
i dunno.
i recently returned from my second trip to the sunshine state in 3 weeks. I have an ailing brother and an 89 year old mother living there and as you might imagine, things are getting complicated. my mom lives alone, by her own choice, in a too big house with too many maintenance issues and too much yard to care for. what was reaffirmed for me on this last visit was that i am powerless to affect that. it's well past time for her to make some changes but it isn't going to happen so i am left with the prospect of more and frequent trips with the inevitable collapse of her shakey independence.
driving home, i searched the radio for distraction and stumbled on the Ted Talks hour on public radio. they were featuring innovative thinkers on the topic of education. one of the speakers was a man named John Hunter, who teaches 3rd grade in Charlottesville Va. and who has created "The World Peace Game".
what he does is remarkable. in the game, which he's been teaching for 30 years, his kids assume positions of political power, representing various countries, and they're presented with some complex and interconnected, real time, real world problems. as he says proudly, various classes have solved the global warming crisis in 5 days or less. they have all the choices that are available, theoretically anyway, to the rest of us....declare war...send aid...unite for a common cause. what they don't have are the limitations of hard-wired "impossibles". and they're not hog-tied by looming prospects of re-election time. they're free to imagine possibilities. the game is won when all the problems have been solved and, at the same time, every country is better off financially than they were at the beginning of the game.
i'm not doing it justice and i urge you to google the actual talk. what struck me and the reason i'm bringing it up, is that the Mr. Hunter's ultimate goal with this game is to teach compassion. his hope is that by the end, the kids have realized that they're responsible for more than their own territories...that they're responsible for the fate of humankind. and the beauty is that, given a free hand in working out the issues, they seem to naturally come to that.
i'm reaching here, to connect this to my recent experience in Florida. it hasn't come clear, yet, but i know it has everything to do with the compassion piece.
it's easy to look at my mom and call her the problem. she's a difficult person and her behaviors have a huge impact on any well intentioned folks who try to help. but in a world of more highly functioning, fast moving, clear headed powerful younger people, each with their own agenda, about all she has to hold up in her own defense is a refusal to cooperate and she does that with no pretense of being a nice old lady. she's in your face and fighting mad, all the time. friends fall away. pretty soon its only the morally obliged who show up to try again.
so if my mom was a country, she'd be a dangerous one and a threat to world peace. Mr. Hunter told the story of a little girl who was the defense minister of a small, impoverished nation. She shocked the room by unexpectedly and unprovoked declaring war on a larger nation next to hers. Against all protests, she fought and won by surrounding and immobilizing their army in a surprise attack. It was only revealed later that the larger forces in question had been planning a global war, whereby they would take control, not just her country but of everyone else's as well. The little girl had been watching and reading the signs of coming aggression and she'd preempted it, essentially saving the world.
wow. talk about your lessons. it involves personal and collective sacrifice and an incredible level of confidence. it scares me cause it challenges my own absolute beliefs about the morality of war. and on a smaller scale, it challenges my obligations with regard to that dangerous territory i call my mom. she's still driving. that alone makes her a threat to the rest of the world and to herself.
at what point do i step in, surround and immobilize her to prevent something bad from happening? what's the compassionate choice? i dunno.
i dunno.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Back to dogs.
 |
| Ember |
 |
| Ember and Raleigh |
 |
| Raleligh |
 |
| Momdog Corabelle |
 |
| perspective |
socializing the puppies is on my agenda this week, so i've been taking them out on the lawn to meet the pack. i've kept the interactions brief till now, partly because Corabelle gets very agitated when i take them and partly just to insure that each meeting is a positive one - getting them the heck outa there before max and ellie start to get jealous. this was the first day i actually let one of them run around with us while the other stayed back with mom to keep her distracted.
Raleigh toddled along behind me, wagging his little tail, pausing as each of the pack came over to check him out. pretty soon the rottencockers got bored and ran off but uber mom maggie was rapt. she sniffed. she licked the pup's head. nudged his belly with her nose. then she lay down and used a curled paw to pull him toward her. he obliged briefly before waddling away. finally she dropped, belly up, legs spread, head back in an apparently irresistible invitation. Raleigh climbed onto her neck, falling from side to side and struggling back. he licked her mouth, bit her cheek. eyes softly closed, she remained still.
i don't know if all mom dogs respond that way to random puppies. i have my doubts, but maybe. maggie's pups were adopted away back in June so perhaps her memories are fresh enough to influence her behavior toward these little ones. but i think there's more to it than that. i think that like people, dogs are individual and distinct. some are born to run and play, to hunt or herd or protect. some are more people oriented and some just want to be with other dogs. there are those born more needy and others, like our maggie, more nurturing. she was in a state of unmistakable bliss with a puppy flopping around, slobbering on her face.
when he got tired and refused to walk, i carried Raleigh back to the pen with Maggie close alongside, jumping up from time to time, touching noses with him. i understood she wanted him back. from the depths of my heart, i understood.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Medicare looms
in my future. oy. i mean like this week, i officially become a crone.
that's not a bad thing, though from time to time when i'm surprised by my own reflection, it's a shocker. man. i look like i've taken a beating. somehow, i'm never prepared for the reality.
so this is the big plateau. the point in life where you look around and assess.
and i have to say, things haven't turned out like i expected. i'm not a ballerina or a veterinarian. i'm not happily married (or unhappily for that matter, thanks be to heaven). i'm not zen. i haven't achieved enlightenment or dedicated my life to a noble cause. i've just muddled. that feels disappointing. but here's the thing...i have learned some stuff and it's mostly about values. there's beauty in letting go of what i wanted, so that i can appreciate what i have.
i apparently will not change the world, save the wolves or the polar bears or democracy from some sad fate, no matter who's elected next. what's playing out on the planet environmentally, economically and politically is an overwhelming drama that i can't fix. i'm not indifferent or disconnected but even as i do the small things that i can to affect change, i'm not expecting that my answer is the only one or the most perfect choice or that any one other person has the combination of vision and power to correct our course.
Bill Gates recently sponsored a competition to find the next great innovation in toilet design. that's kind of quirky, i thought. but as i followed the story, i came to appreciate the implications. you'd be surprised at the number of folks around the world working on the question of disposal and at the variety of their solutions. the innovations ranged from improved latrine systems to complicated sewage treatment models. the big cash prize went to the solar powered electric toilet that cleans the water and composts waste. perhaps the greatest thing about it is that if that design or some of the others can be made affordable, they could change things globally. solve sanitation and health issues in disadvantaged countries as well as right here at home, where we've yet to feel the full impact of a wide-spread, disastrous drought.
not any one person has the combination of vision and power to correct our global course. there's no use dividing into tribes and warring against each other, passing the hot potato from hand to hand. nobody wins when we're divided, wasting our energies on whose team will get the flag rather than on the real question, which is no longer how can we make life better but how can we sustain it, in the face of diminishing resources and crumbling economies, world wide. we can't afford to waste any more time on the vanity of our own reflections. what's called for is the letting go of ideologies for the sake of cooperation and mutual support around reasonable solutions to real life issues. let's take care of all of us, not just some.
let's build a better toilet.
that's not a bad thing, though from time to time when i'm surprised by my own reflection, it's a shocker. man. i look like i've taken a beating. somehow, i'm never prepared for the reality.
so this is the big plateau. the point in life where you look around and assess.
and i have to say, things haven't turned out like i expected. i'm not a ballerina or a veterinarian. i'm not happily married (or unhappily for that matter, thanks be to heaven). i'm not zen. i haven't achieved enlightenment or dedicated my life to a noble cause. i've just muddled. that feels disappointing. but here's the thing...i have learned some stuff and it's mostly about values. there's beauty in letting go of what i wanted, so that i can appreciate what i have.
i apparently will not change the world, save the wolves or the polar bears or democracy from some sad fate, no matter who's elected next. what's playing out on the planet environmentally, economically and politically is an overwhelming drama that i can't fix. i'm not indifferent or disconnected but even as i do the small things that i can to affect change, i'm not expecting that my answer is the only one or the most perfect choice or that any one other person has the combination of vision and power to correct our course.
Bill Gates recently sponsored a competition to find the next great innovation in toilet design. that's kind of quirky, i thought. but as i followed the story, i came to appreciate the implications. you'd be surprised at the number of folks around the world working on the question of disposal and at the variety of their solutions. the innovations ranged from improved latrine systems to complicated sewage treatment models. the big cash prize went to the solar powered electric toilet that cleans the water and composts waste. perhaps the greatest thing about it is that if that design or some of the others can be made affordable, they could change things globally. solve sanitation and health issues in disadvantaged countries as well as right here at home, where we've yet to feel the full impact of a wide-spread, disastrous drought.
not any one person has the combination of vision and power to correct our global course. there's no use dividing into tribes and warring against each other, passing the hot potato from hand to hand. nobody wins when we're divided, wasting our energies on whose team will get the flag rather than on the real question, which is no longer how can we make life better but how can we sustain it, in the face of diminishing resources and crumbling economies, world wide. we can't afford to waste any more time on the vanity of our own reflections. what's called for is the letting go of ideologies for the sake of cooperation and mutual support around reasonable solutions to real life issues. let's take care of all of us, not just some.
let's build a better toilet.
Friday, August 3, 2012
no cell phone...
it's been three full days without one and the experience has some things in common with going on retreat. i'm not talking, texting and checking email through the day, though if you ask my awesome friends, they'd say i never do that, anyway. i'm scolded, regularly and appropriately, for my response delays.
hermetic by nature, i also have a very high klutz quotient so verbal communication can get stressful. it takes a lot of mental energy for me to make words come out of my mouth. that's why i walk dogs. they don't require a lot of talking. that's why i write. i can blurt all over the page and then take it back before anybody knows.
one time i got an owl stuck on my finger. it's a long story but for my purposes here, i'll just say that first of all, i don't recommend it and secondly, that on the way to the hospital, bird on hand, i called the insurance company for permission to go to the ER. that was 10 years ago and i could call them today and whoever answered the phone would ask, in a tone of voice i recognize from childhood, what is it this time? they say to me, remember when you got the owl stuck on your finger? like i could forget. like, when are these people going to retire?
see? right there's a call i sort of wish i'd never made...something i said that i'm wishing i never had...haunting me a decade later.
so it makes sense that i have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone. the hate part plays out in the variety and frequency with which i regularly lose and destroy them. i've slammed them in car doors, dropped and run over them and we all know they don't float. i've found them in the freezer, the chicken shed and next to the melons at the grocery store. i need a child-proof, inflatable phone on a stretchy cord.
or maybe i need a keeper. someone to follow me around with my phone and my car keys and my glasses. and my wallet. but not my pen.
i never lose my pen.
hermetic by nature, i also have a very high klutz quotient so verbal communication can get stressful. it takes a lot of mental energy for me to make words come out of my mouth. that's why i walk dogs. they don't require a lot of talking. that's why i write. i can blurt all over the page and then take it back before anybody knows.
one time i got an owl stuck on my finger. it's a long story but for my purposes here, i'll just say that first of all, i don't recommend it and secondly, that on the way to the hospital, bird on hand, i called the insurance company for permission to go to the ER. that was 10 years ago and i could call them today and whoever answered the phone would ask, in a tone of voice i recognize from childhood, what is it this time? they say to me, remember when you got the owl stuck on your finger? like i could forget. like, when are these people going to retire?
see? right there's a call i sort of wish i'd never made...something i said that i'm wishing i never had...haunting me a decade later.
so it makes sense that i have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone. the hate part plays out in the variety and frequency with which i regularly lose and destroy them. i've slammed them in car doors, dropped and run over them and we all know they don't float. i've found them in the freezer, the chicken shed and next to the melons at the grocery store. i need a child-proof, inflatable phone on a stretchy cord.
or maybe i need a keeper. someone to follow me around with my phone and my car keys and my glasses. and my wallet. but not my pen.
i never lose my pen.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
awesome friends...
i got 'em. not that i deserve them.
i'm reluctant to share something complimentary about myself. you might think i'm gettin' the big head. but i'm moved to do it because of what this says so eloquently about the gift of giving.
Thank you, S, for this beautiful gift.
i'm reluctant to share something complimentary about myself. you might think i'm gettin' the big head. but i'm moved to do it because of what this says so eloquently about the gift of giving.
DogDays, I'm happy to see you are sticking with the shelter . I commented on you general glow at lunch last week . It's still hard to pin point [ the glow ] , but it went deeper than your healthy tan . There must be something that comes alive in all of us when we help others . Some all healing alinement of our very essence must happen that makes things right . So right that even though everything is not perfect it's still right . Such is the power of helping all things great & small . I think you clearly made the right choice . Let your little light shine let it shine let it shine let it shine !! S
Thank you, S, for this beautiful gift.
Monday, July 30, 2012
raleigh and ember
are the new puppies' names (courtesy of a friend and loyal reader). his for sir walter, the adventurer and hers for the way she stays burrowed into the warmth of the bed. cora lets me pick them up now and she lets me know when it's time to put them down. she really is a good mom.
i've never had the chance to observe newborn pups, till now. Maggie's were fat little doggies when i brought them home...swirling around my feet and biting my shoes as i tried to move, so i have to confess, i was expecting something different. i guess i thought like, ok, 2-3 days and they'd be running around. but they're 12 days old and this evening i saw raleigh learning to stand, in that wobbly way that babies do. taking a single step and flopping onto his belly. long periods of rest between one attempt and the next. ember, meanwhile, was on her back in the bed. when i disturbed her, she opened her eyes, closed them and started to squirm, putting her paws up to her mouth. watching them, ember content to be a baby and her brother, wanting to grow up and get going right this red hot minute, i'm flooded with memories of the infants i've been blessed to know and how they've been distinguished and individual, from their earliest moments. it's enchanting to see the way each new life arrives on earth as a particular spirit, with its own particular way of being. i'm reminded, again, how various we are. how wonderous in our variety.
**********
in other news, i went back to the shelter today, determined to walk dogs and keep my head down. but of course, because i was determined, it didn't happen that way. i wound up working with potential adopters. showing dogs as much as walking them.
Mr Banks got adopted by one of the volunteers (yay!!)and one of the puppies by the folks i'd been helping. i'm in love with a new dog named Yogi. He looks like a little 10 lb german shepherd and he is desperately good. i hope someone wonderful chooses him before i have to take him home.
love stories, success stories, happy dogs...it was a satisfying day. it felt good to be back.
i've never had the chance to observe newborn pups, till now. Maggie's were fat little doggies when i brought them home...swirling around my feet and biting my shoes as i tried to move, so i have to confess, i was expecting something different. i guess i thought like, ok, 2-3 days and they'd be running around. but they're 12 days old and this evening i saw raleigh learning to stand, in that wobbly way that babies do. taking a single step and flopping onto his belly. long periods of rest between one attempt and the next. ember, meanwhile, was on her back in the bed. when i disturbed her, she opened her eyes, closed them and started to squirm, putting her paws up to her mouth. watching them, ember content to be a baby and her brother, wanting to grow up and get going right this red hot minute, i'm flooded with memories of the infants i've been blessed to know and how they've been distinguished and individual, from their earliest moments. it's enchanting to see the way each new life arrives on earth as a particular spirit, with its own particular way of being. i'm reminded, again, how various we are. how wonderous in our variety.
**********
in other news, i went back to the shelter today, determined to walk dogs and keep my head down. but of course, because i was determined, it didn't happen that way. i wound up working with potential adopters. showing dogs as much as walking them.
Mr Banks got adopted by one of the volunteers (yay!!)and one of the puppies by the folks i'd been helping. i'm in love with a new dog named Yogi. He looks like a little 10 lb german shepherd and he is desperately good. i hope someone wonderful chooses him before i have to take him home.
love stories, success stories, happy dogs...it was a satisfying day. it felt good to be back.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
the white hot burning question
of whether or not i can continue with my work at the shelter has sort of answered itself.
i haven't been able to go in, the past few days and won't be able to for several more, for personal reasons, and i think that's just as well. it had been a tough week and i was worn out. being away gives me the opportunity to miss it. to feel the space its absence leaves in my life. to think about what i've been doing the past few months.
from my first day there, i just rolled up my proverbial sleeves and got to work. i didn't make a plan to go back each day. i just went. i think that's how i know it's right for me. there was no deciding. i don't keep track of my hours and i'm only capable of simple math but i know that it's been a big commitment. i've given it a significant chunk of my time. i refer to it as "going to work" because it's more than a diversion. it's a reason for getting out of bed and a chance to feel good about doing so.
i hope some things change at the shelter...but i'll be going back, even if they don't. once again i'm aware that i'm helping animals in need and that one of them is me.
i haven't been able to go in, the past few days and won't be able to for several more, for personal reasons, and i think that's just as well. it had been a tough week and i was worn out. being away gives me the opportunity to miss it. to feel the space its absence leaves in my life. to think about what i've been doing the past few months.
from my first day there, i just rolled up my proverbial sleeves and got to work. i didn't make a plan to go back each day. i just went. i think that's how i know it's right for me. there was no deciding. i don't keep track of my hours and i'm only capable of simple math but i know that it's been a big commitment. i've given it a significant chunk of my time. i refer to it as "going to work" because it's more than a diversion. it's a reason for getting out of bed and a chance to feel good about doing so.
i hope some things change at the shelter...but i'll be going back, even if they don't. once again i'm aware that i'm helping animals in need and that one of them is me.
Friday, July 27, 2012
i'm considering
and i'm deciding if i can continue my work at the shelter.
as the pace has picked up with more lookers, more adoptions, the system is faltering even as the volunteer numbers are slowly increasing and life for the dogs, in particular, is getting better. i've been helping out, when things are really busy, showing animals, talking about their particular quirks and graces, taking them outside to spend time with prospective adoptors. i'm not a particularly appealing hostess. i'm usually dripping sweat and i always smell like some combination of wet dog and the stuff i shovel between walks. but i know most of the dogs pretty well and i'm not shy about telling folks what they're getting into in terms of the adjustments and commitments they'll face. i'll speak up if i don't think they're making a good choice for their particular circumstance.
a month ago, a woman came in to choose a dog. she fell in love with a big, beautiful, energetic white hound. she said she would be responsible for its care but that it would live with her elderly mother, as her companion. you see the problem. i was emphatically unsupportive and tried to steer her toward smaller, older, quieter choices but she would not be dissuaded. yesterday the dog was rudely and unceremoniously returned...like it was her fault that she was too big, needed too much attention.
disturbing as that is, it's not the issue at hand. i was just telling you about it to demonstrate what a hard-a i can be. how incredibly effective.
what may drive me away is that i can't trust the system. when i show animals i'm answering adoption questions and i'm repeating to folks what i've been told about how it works. except recently it hasn't been working. filling out an application on an animal is supposed to give you 48 hours to decide. if you haven't paid the adoption fee or signed the contract within that time, you lose your place in line and if there's a second application, that one has 48 hours, and so on. if it's a particularly appealing animal, there can be multiple apps in the back-up position.
so what's happening is that i'm showing animals and spending time with people and answering those questions and encouraging them, if they're serious but need to bring back a child or spouse or their household pet for approval, to go ahead and apply and take advantage of that 48 hour grace period. and several times in the last couple weeks, those folks have returned to find that somebody's jumped the line and taken home the animal they'd expected was theirs. there have been some grievously disappointed families...folks who returned within hours to cement their adoption or worse yet, went home and read about the adoption on line.
in each case, the explanation i was given couldn't hold water. either some folks were being given priority or there's a sink hole in the process. mistakes happen. i'm not one to expect perfection. what's totally unacceptable is that when there was an opportunity to correct one of these errors, the decision was made to do nothing. not even a delay, to assess the circumstances.
a friend of mine came in to see a particular kitten she'd looked at online and i happened to be there at the time so i got to introduce them. it was love. this particular little kitten was like an answered prayer for her. she had no doubts about it but simply wanted to give her husband the courtesy of a phone call before she brought it home and he was mid-flight, somewhere over the atlantic. hers was the first application. sad story short, as she was making the call and shopping for cat beds, someone else adopted the cat. now here's the part that makes me angry. the folks in charge knew what had happened before closing that evening and chose to do nothing about it. they sent the cat, the next morning, to be spayed and declawed as per the agreement with the usurping owner. good God.
my friend and i each made a separate appeal the next morning, for them to intervene before it was too late. we were each denied with the boiler-plate line that there's nothing we can do because the other person had a signed contract. the most they did was to call and ask if that happy shopper would give up her claim and nope. she wouldn't.
i feel personally betrayed. i feel personally responsible because i've unwittingly but repeatedly misrepresented the truth to people and caused them heartache and all i'm getting from the folks in charge is a shrugging apology. oh, well. so sorry but rules is rules. except when they're not.
i don't know what to do.
as the pace has picked up with more lookers, more adoptions, the system is faltering even as the volunteer numbers are slowly increasing and life for the dogs, in particular, is getting better. i've been helping out, when things are really busy, showing animals, talking about their particular quirks and graces, taking them outside to spend time with prospective adoptors. i'm not a particularly appealing hostess. i'm usually dripping sweat and i always smell like some combination of wet dog and the stuff i shovel between walks. but i know most of the dogs pretty well and i'm not shy about telling folks what they're getting into in terms of the adjustments and commitments they'll face. i'll speak up if i don't think they're making a good choice for their particular circumstance.
a month ago, a woman came in to choose a dog. she fell in love with a big, beautiful, energetic white hound. she said she would be responsible for its care but that it would live with her elderly mother, as her companion. you see the problem. i was emphatically unsupportive and tried to steer her toward smaller, older, quieter choices but she would not be dissuaded. yesterday the dog was rudely and unceremoniously returned...like it was her fault that she was too big, needed too much attention.
disturbing as that is, it's not the issue at hand. i was just telling you about it to demonstrate what a hard-a i can be. how incredibly effective.
what may drive me away is that i can't trust the system. when i show animals i'm answering adoption questions and i'm repeating to folks what i've been told about how it works. except recently it hasn't been working. filling out an application on an animal is supposed to give you 48 hours to decide. if you haven't paid the adoption fee or signed the contract within that time, you lose your place in line and if there's a second application, that one has 48 hours, and so on. if it's a particularly appealing animal, there can be multiple apps in the back-up position.
so what's happening is that i'm showing animals and spending time with people and answering those questions and encouraging them, if they're serious but need to bring back a child or spouse or their household pet for approval, to go ahead and apply and take advantage of that 48 hour grace period. and several times in the last couple weeks, those folks have returned to find that somebody's jumped the line and taken home the animal they'd expected was theirs. there have been some grievously disappointed families...folks who returned within hours to cement their adoption or worse yet, went home and read about the adoption on line.
in each case, the explanation i was given couldn't hold water. either some folks were being given priority or there's a sink hole in the process. mistakes happen. i'm not one to expect perfection. what's totally unacceptable is that when there was an opportunity to correct one of these errors, the decision was made to do nothing. not even a delay, to assess the circumstances.
a friend of mine came in to see a particular kitten she'd looked at online and i happened to be there at the time so i got to introduce them. it was love. this particular little kitten was like an answered prayer for her. she had no doubts about it but simply wanted to give her husband the courtesy of a phone call before she brought it home and he was mid-flight, somewhere over the atlantic. hers was the first application. sad story short, as she was making the call and shopping for cat beds, someone else adopted the cat. now here's the part that makes me angry. the folks in charge knew what had happened before closing that evening and chose to do nothing about it. they sent the cat, the next morning, to be spayed and declawed as per the agreement with the usurping owner. good God.
my friend and i each made a separate appeal the next morning, for them to intervene before it was too late. we were each denied with the boiler-plate line that there's nothing we can do because the other person had a signed contract. the most they did was to call and ask if that happy shopper would give up her claim and nope. she wouldn't.
i feel personally betrayed. i feel personally responsible because i've unwittingly but repeatedly misrepresented the truth to people and caused them heartache and all i'm getting from the folks in charge is a shrugging apology. oh, well. so sorry but rules is rules. except when they're not.
i don't know what to do.
Monday, July 23, 2012
it struck me
last night that i've been working at the shelter since the beginning of May. Not quite 3 months. Not quite three months! Good Lord.
This isn't the same life, since i've been going there. I've changed my thinking about so many things...become aware of so much. It's a genuine experience of helplessness...fighting a tide of tragedy. but it's also a learning experience and one of increasingly frequent joy. the little core of dedicated volunteers is growing. more dogs are getting out for walks more frequently. we're able to focus extra attention on the most needy. adoptions are at an all time high because of increasing awareness in the community.
i've been careful not to identify myself or the shelter or even the state where all this has happened. it's a universal issue. i want it to feel like it's your back yard, cause, trust me, it is. but i want to tell you about a program here that's making a difference. maybe you'll want to try something like it.
two concerned women formed a non-profit whose work it is to change the way that shelter animals are perceived. they take "glamor shots" of the animals as they come up for adoption. bathed and brushed and wearing bow ties or pearl necklaces, seated on wicker chairs or outside on the lawn, they're photographed by professionals who donate their time and efforts for the cause. there's a facebook page where the animals are featured and it's updated with the good news as adoptions occur. and of course the exposure increases exponentially as viewers "like" the site or share the photos on their own pages. the shelter uses the same photos on their website, so instead of the usual cowering-in-the-corner black and white pictures you're used to seeing, there are these charming, tongue-lolling, sweet looking critters that are easy to imagine curled up on your couch or playing with your kids.
maybe it sounds like a small thing, but like i said, adoptions are at an all time high. it takes dedication and effort. it takes volunteer support. and it works.
if you'd like more information, contact me by using the "comment" button below.
i'll be happy to tell you more.
This isn't the same life, since i've been going there. I've changed my thinking about so many things...become aware of so much. It's a genuine experience of helplessness...fighting a tide of tragedy. but it's also a learning experience and one of increasingly frequent joy. the little core of dedicated volunteers is growing. more dogs are getting out for walks more frequently. we're able to focus extra attention on the most needy. adoptions are at an all time high because of increasing awareness in the community.
i've been careful not to identify myself or the shelter or even the state where all this has happened. it's a universal issue. i want it to feel like it's your back yard, cause, trust me, it is. but i want to tell you about a program here that's making a difference. maybe you'll want to try something like it.
two concerned women formed a non-profit whose work it is to change the way that shelter animals are perceived. they take "glamor shots" of the animals as they come up for adoption. bathed and brushed and wearing bow ties or pearl necklaces, seated on wicker chairs or outside on the lawn, they're photographed by professionals who donate their time and efforts for the cause. there's a facebook page where the animals are featured and it's updated with the good news as adoptions occur. and of course the exposure increases exponentially as viewers "like" the site or share the photos on their own pages. the shelter uses the same photos on their website, so instead of the usual cowering-in-the-corner black and white pictures you're used to seeing, there are these charming, tongue-lolling, sweet looking critters that are easy to imagine curled up on your couch or playing with your kids.
maybe it sounds like a small thing, but like i said, adoptions are at an all time high. it takes dedication and effort. it takes volunteer support. and it works.
if you'd like more information, contact me by using the "comment" button below.
i'll be happy to tell you more.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
a little info
about this blog...
first of all, i really, really want you to come back and read it again. and i'd love for you to tell your friends about it, if you think they'd be interested. it keeps me going, to know that there's interest in what i'm blithering.
if you chose to subscribe, it will not tell me who you are. i apologize and i hope your feelings won't be hurt, but you'll just be a statistic. what it will do is send you an email alert when i publish something new and soul stirring.
you can comment. down at the bottom of each post, click on "comments" and it will open a window for you to respond, if you're so moved. that would be awesome for me to have feedback.
if i've ever hurt your feelings, i apologize. (just throwing that in cause sometimes i'm a clod but i mean no harm.)
first of all, i really, really want you to come back and read it again. and i'd love for you to tell your friends about it, if you think they'd be interested. it keeps me going, to know that there's interest in what i'm blithering.
if you chose to subscribe, it will not tell me who you are. i apologize and i hope your feelings won't be hurt, but you'll just be a statistic. what it will do is send you an email alert when i publish something new and soul stirring.
you can comment. down at the bottom of each post, click on "comments" and it will open a window for you to respond, if you're so moved. that would be awesome for me to have feedback.
if i've ever hurt your feelings, i apologize. (just throwing that in cause sometimes i'm a clod but i mean no harm.)
peeking under
a heavy chair in my bedroom, i spotted an errant sock. what i retrieved was, instead, a sock sized dust bunny. so much for dignity.
one of the things about growing old is that priorities change. you realize that you've got maybe another 10 years before your opportunities for expansion will begin to disappear behind some physical limitation, whether it's a broken part or just an empty tank. the significance of sock bunnies is diminished. do i care that my private space is less than tidy? not that much.
i remember shopping in a big, fancy store in new york a couple decades ago. i found this incredibly delicious pair of italian boots on clearance. if i'd dreamed a perfect pair of boots, these were them. they looked and smelled like burnt sugar, with brushed brass buttons that laced up the front. they were a little bit sexy and a little bit prim. i'd hungered for them my whole life, it seemed, so i grabbed like i was saving a life...i grabbed like a desperate fool. the universe smiled its buddha smile. they were just my size. but they were narrow. nothing about me is narrow. well, i'm sorry, but, seriously...in the face of such perfection, who cares if they pinch! they were beautiful and affordable, so i crammed my shoebox shaped feet down inside them and handed over my plastic money. wow, they hurt. like cripplingly hurt. they eventually looked great in my closet, gathering dust.
today, i could buy my shoes blindfolded and be perfectly happy if they looked like groundhogs on my feet. all i care about is comfort. my new style is most charitably called "broken in". i barely bother to sort the darks from lights cause everything is faded to some shade of grey, anyhow. if my hair starts to feel too hairy, i cut it off. i've made friends with my old face and take it out in public, bare naked. my priorities have changed.
i am humbled by my own imperfection. my path is littered with regrets that have, at times, walled me off from joy. but things have changed. finally, i tire of endlessly consuming myself. finally i say, this body, this consciousness is only important as a vehicle by which i am able to experience the beauty of the world...define beauty how you will.
today when i went out to cora's shed, the sky was absolutely rockin' beautiful. the early sun fell through the window onto the little blind pups in a golden slant of light...in a way that seemed too perfect to be true. i remained still until that light faded and another filled my heart. it felt a holy moment, meant for me to see and then to share with you.
i remember shopping in a big, fancy store in new york a couple decades ago. i found this incredibly delicious pair of italian boots on clearance. if i'd dreamed a perfect pair of boots, these were them. they looked and smelled like burnt sugar, with brushed brass buttons that laced up the front. they were a little bit sexy and a little bit prim. i'd hungered for them my whole life, it seemed, so i grabbed like i was saving a life...i grabbed like a desperate fool. the universe smiled its buddha smile. they were just my size. but they were narrow. nothing about me is narrow. well, i'm sorry, but, seriously...in the face of such perfection, who cares if they pinch! they were beautiful and affordable, so i crammed my shoebox shaped feet down inside them and handed over my plastic money. wow, they hurt. like cripplingly hurt. they eventually looked great in my closet, gathering dust.
today, i could buy my shoes blindfolded and be perfectly happy if they looked like groundhogs on my feet. all i care about is comfort. my new style is most charitably called "broken in". i barely bother to sort the darks from lights cause everything is faded to some shade of grey, anyhow. if my hair starts to feel too hairy, i cut it off. i've made friends with my old face and take it out in public, bare naked. my priorities have changed.
i am humbled by my own imperfection. my path is littered with regrets that have, at times, walled me off from joy. but things have changed. finally, i tire of endlessly consuming myself. finally i say, this body, this consciousness is only important as a vehicle by which i am able to experience the beauty of the world...define beauty how you will.
today when i went out to cora's shed, the sky was absolutely rockin' beautiful. the early sun fell through the window onto the little blind pups in a golden slant of light...in a way that seemed too perfect to be true. i remained still until that light faded and another filled my heart. it felt a holy moment, meant for me to see and then to share with you.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
corabelle
wants in the house. now that we're compatibly walking off-leash with the pack on a regular basis, she heads off toward the back door, asap. she's even used the doggie door and come into the garage. things like that make you wonder what her life was like, before the shelter.
if you're wondering why i won't bring her inside, there are several reasons. she has a comfortable shed with cross ventilation and a ceiling fan. there's doggie door access to a covered, fenced, yard that will be safe even for the pups when they're old enough to do more than scoot out blindly onto the linoleum. i could never re-create that for her, in the house. also, she's extremely defensive whenever one of my dogs comes near the boundary of her little sanctuary. it could get ugly, in a heartbeat, if that happened inside. and finally, there's been so much upheaval for my dogs since i began taking in fosters that i'm reluctant to even suggest that there's anything permanent in this situation. i'm hoping that corabelle and her babies will move on, without drama, to permanent homes after a while. i don't want to mislead her heart or mine.
oh. and if you're interested in helping me name them, there's one boy pup - who looks like a very mini rottweiler - and one girl, with little white feet and a white blaze on her chest. they're barely as big as my hand and they haven't opened their eyes yet, but its the boy pup who keep scooting out of the crate onto the floor. already an adventurer!
on another front, the little stray that i coaxed into the shelter is up for adoption. they've named him Jefferson. big name for a wee fellow. he's a delightful little man. snuggly and quiet with people but playful with any other dog he meets. i do love, love him.
and Mr. Banks is still waiting for a home. he's less grumbly when i take him outside now. i won't say take him for walks cause he will only walk as far as the first shady spot before he stretches out, frog-like on the grass, head up, eyes closed, facing into the breeze. he growled just once, today and it seemed like a mere formality...as opposed to some genuine dissatisfaction. i'm planning on taking him to my vet monday, to have him checked over. he just doesn't seem to feel very good and i want to make sure he's getting what he needs to flourish. and i'm praying he gets enough time for that to happen.
if you're wondering why i won't bring her inside, there are several reasons. she has a comfortable shed with cross ventilation and a ceiling fan. there's doggie door access to a covered, fenced, yard that will be safe even for the pups when they're old enough to do more than scoot out blindly onto the linoleum. i could never re-create that for her, in the house. also, she's extremely defensive whenever one of my dogs comes near the boundary of her little sanctuary. it could get ugly, in a heartbeat, if that happened inside. and finally, there's been so much upheaval for my dogs since i began taking in fosters that i'm reluctant to even suggest that there's anything permanent in this situation. i'm hoping that corabelle and her babies will move on, without drama, to permanent homes after a while. i don't want to mislead her heart or mine.
oh. and if you're interested in helping me name them, there's one boy pup - who looks like a very mini rottweiler - and one girl, with little white feet and a white blaze on her chest. they're barely as big as my hand and they haven't opened their eyes yet, but its the boy pup who keep scooting out of the crate onto the floor. already an adventurer!
on another front, the little stray that i coaxed into the shelter is up for adoption. they've named him Jefferson. big name for a wee fellow. he's a delightful little man. snuggly and quiet with people but playful with any other dog he meets. i do love, love him.
and Mr. Banks is still waiting for a home. he's less grumbly when i take him outside now. i won't say take him for walks cause he will only walk as far as the first shady spot before he stretches out, frog-like on the grass, head up, eyes closed, facing into the breeze. he growled just once, today and it seemed like a mere formality...as opposed to some genuine dissatisfaction. i'm planning on taking him to my vet monday, to have him checked over. he just doesn't seem to feel very good and i want to make sure he's getting what he needs to flourish. and i'm praying he gets enough time for that to happen.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
the first walk
with the mom dog and maggie and the rottencockers went better than expected. they had been shouting at each other through the kennel fence for two days, so i was prepared for some misbehavin' and of course max, the supreme master of rotten, rushed right up to set the record straight about who was in charge. instead of cowering, mom dog snapped once and he adjusted his thinking.
after that, we cruised the path with speed and intention. mom dog, now Corabelle, for maiden heart, took off like she was headin' for the barn, shifting my focus from what the other dogs were doing to whether or not i was going to remain upright as she dragged me, skidding, along the wet hillside. i was tempted to let her off the leash, but some sensible adult part of me spoke up wondering how i'd feel about chasing her around the field for the unforseen future so i bent my knees and leaned against the drag. i'm pretty proud that i listened and we all returned safely cause it was clear, after a bit, that Cora would have been quite happy to keep going indefinitely.
she was friendly enough when we got back to her shed, but as soon as i looked at the pups, she put herself between us...so i'm not pushing her, just yet, to let me closer. but i do respect her technique - not threatening but not taking any chances, either.
i can't help comparing Corabelle and Maggie as mom dogs and i know that's unfair for a couple of reasons. first of all, Maggie's perfect. she just is. also, i had a trusting relationship with her before we ever left the shelter. she was still a stray when she gave birth so didn't have Cora's compounded trauma of being captured, then locked up in the chaos of an institutional animal shelter for days before giving birth and losing babies in the loneliness of night. and Maggie's young. Cora's old enough to be retired from the birthin', nursin' process. that said, as i compare, at the same time, i resist judgment. it's a wait and see kind of moment.
wanna help me name the pups? i'd love that. i'll post some photos soon to inspire you. as soon as Cora let's me close.
after that, we cruised the path with speed and intention. mom dog, now Corabelle, for maiden heart, took off like she was headin' for the barn, shifting my focus from what the other dogs were doing to whether or not i was going to remain upright as she dragged me, skidding, along the wet hillside. i was tempted to let her off the leash, but some sensible adult part of me spoke up wondering how i'd feel about chasing her around the field for the unforseen future so i bent my knees and leaned against the drag. i'm pretty proud that i listened and we all returned safely cause it was clear, after a bit, that Cora would have been quite happy to keep going indefinitely.
she was friendly enough when we got back to her shed, but as soon as i looked at the pups, she put herself between us...so i'm not pushing her, just yet, to let me closer. but i do respect her technique - not threatening but not taking any chances, either.
i can't help comparing Corabelle and Maggie as mom dogs and i know that's unfair for a couple of reasons. first of all, Maggie's perfect. she just is. also, i had a trusting relationship with her before we ever left the shelter. she was still a stray when she gave birth so didn't have Cora's compounded trauma of being captured, then locked up in the chaos of an institutional animal shelter for days before giving birth and losing babies in the loneliness of night. and Maggie's young. Cora's old enough to be retired from the birthin', nursin' process. that said, as i compare, at the same time, i resist judgment. it's a wait and see kind of moment.
wanna help me name the pups? i'd love that. i'll post some photos soon to inspire you. as soon as Cora let's me close.
so the new mom-dog
and her two little sausage pups that i brought home yesterday are settled in and once again i've demonstrated that it's pointless for me to have a plan. i wasn't going to take another foster for a while. i did and do need to focus some attention on my own crazy pack. but she's a nameless, elderly-seeming stray who startled the shelter staff by giving birth in her kennel stall two nights ago. not all of her babies survived and truth is, she and the other two weren't going to make it, either. for practical reasons, they'd already been short-listed when i got to work that day.
i don't know this dog. we have no established relationship cause she never made it to adoptions and volunteers are not allowed to mess with them till they've made that cut. the most we can do is slide a treat under the gate as we pass and she was one who never looked up from her corner...never ate a treat or even noticed one. bringing her here, with her accumulated trauma, was stressful for both of us. she was frightened, restless and kept stepping on the wee babies in the crate, making them squeal pitifully. i wanted to remove the pups to safety but i wasn't about to reach in there with the agitated mom, to get them. i just had to trust they'd be ok which, apparently, they are.
the bad news is that the pups look nothing like their mom. she's vaguely collie-like...brownish and fluffy. she appears touchingly vulnerable with her aged, white face. the young ones are black dogs. two sleek, shiney, whimpering little black dogs. Godhelpthem.
i guess i'll keep you updated, as she settles in. Meantime, i'm seriously questioning my own sanity. where will this all end? there has to be a limit and right now, this morning, i'm pretty sure i'm closing in on it.
i don't know this dog. we have no established relationship cause she never made it to adoptions and volunteers are not allowed to mess with them till they've made that cut. the most we can do is slide a treat under the gate as we pass and she was one who never looked up from her corner...never ate a treat or even noticed one. bringing her here, with her accumulated trauma, was stressful for both of us. she was frightened, restless and kept stepping on the wee babies in the crate, making them squeal pitifully. i wanted to remove the pups to safety but i wasn't about to reach in there with the agitated mom, to get them. i just had to trust they'd be ok which, apparently, they are.
the bad news is that the pups look nothing like their mom. she's vaguely collie-like...brownish and fluffy. she appears touchingly vulnerable with her aged, white face. the young ones are black dogs. two sleek, shiney, whimpering little black dogs. Godhelpthem.
i guess i'll keep you updated, as she settles in. Meantime, i'm seriously questioning my own sanity. where will this all end? there has to be a limit and right now, this morning, i'm pretty sure i'm closing in on it.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
did i mention
than Baby Girl got adopted? after months of invisibility, all of a sudden last week there was a flurry of interest...folks responding to her photo online and asking to meet her. she had two interviews in 12 hours and could have had a third, but the second couple recognized her as extraordinary and knew she would fit perfectly into their lives and they took her home.
the biggest challenge about fostering dogs is that you get attached. it made me deeply sad when each of the little puppies left...i wasn't prepared for how hard it was, saying goodbye. and of course, i couldn't say goodbye at all to Maggie, the mom-dog. She's family, now.
with Felicia, i'd known from the start that she would do best living in a cat-free zone, so i had resisted thinking of her as mine. at the same time i accepted that hers was a limited demographic appeal and that if she never found that "click", she'd be staying with me...so while i appreciated and loved her, while i wept when she left and while i still miss her sweet, powerful energy, her leaving felt ordained...that things were as they should be.
baby girl was different. maybe cause i'd watched her, in the shelter and here at home, grow from a big, goofy pup into a young, peaceful, playful dog who was gradually revealing a beautiful old soul. she just seemed to grow more wonderful, by the day. so much time had passed that i was beginning to imagine her a permanent part of my life. the sudden prospect of letting her go was shocking and i'll confess to you that if it hadn't been the best possible fit, i was prepared to protect her. not sure how i would have done that, but i could not have let her go to the wrong home.
it was perfect, this one. the young couple was perfect. they asked the right questions, described what life would look like for her. they cuddled and cooed her, walked and played gently with her. knowing they wanted a dog companion, they had spent a month preparing their house and yard before ever starting the search. and they seemed to know that she was the one...the only dog they asked to meet. she was, it seems, meant for them.
i've since seen pictures of her swimming in a creek, stick in mouth. her new mom writes lovely things about how she's made their lives complete. she will go camping, climbing, hiking, exploring with them. she will be happy and fulfilled, respected and appreciated. but, still, my heart is torn.
it was a blessing, baby girl, to know you. i send you my love.
the biggest challenge about fostering dogs is that you get attached. it made me deeply sad when each of the little puppies left...i wasn't prepared for how hard it was, saying goodbye. and of course, i couldn't say goodbye at all to Maggie, the mom-dog. She's family, now.
with Felicia, i'd known from the start that she would do best living in a cat-free zone, so i had resisted thinking of her as mine. at the same time i accepted that hers was a limited demographic appeal and that if she never found that "click", she'd be staying with me...so while i appreciated and loved her, while i wept when she left and while i still miss her sweet, powerful energy, her leaving felt ordained...that things were as they should be.
baby girl was different. maybe cause i'd watched her, in the shelter and here at home, grow from a big, goofy pup into a young, peaceful, playful dog who was gradually revealing a beautiful old soul. she just seemed to grow more wonderful, by the day. so much time had passed that i was beginning to imagine her a permanent part of my life. the sudden prospect of letting her go was shocking and i'll confess to you that if it hadn't been the best possible fit, i was prepared to protect her. not sure how i would have done that, but i could not have let her go to the wrong home.
it was perfect, this one. the young couple was perfect. they asked the right questions, described what life would look like for her. they cuddled and cooed her, walked and played gently with her. knowing they wanted a dog companion, they had spent a month preparing their house and yard before ever starting the search. and they seemed to know that she was the one...the only dog they asked to meet. she was, it seems, meant for them.
i've since seen pictures of her swimming in a creek, stick in mouth. her new mom writes lovely things about how she's made their lives complete. she will go camping, climbing, hiking, exploring with them. she will be happy and fulfilled, respected and appreciated. but, still, my heart is torn.
it was a blessing, baby girl, to know you. i send you my love.
Monday, July 16, 2012
depending on how you spin it,
i'm either hopeful or deluded.
in the face of certain distressing realities, i can get discouraged but i seem to eventually hammer the world into some kind of cooperation...so that i get to believe things will all turn out ok. that i'm not just wasting my time on the planet, but actually moving some mystery a little closer to its fulfillment. i seriously don't know what i'm doing. i'm counting on the universe to make sense of it, some day.
my plan to travel with friends fell through this past weekend. i already had the necessities, i.e. a full tank and a critter sitter, so i decided to head up to the mountains for a little R&R. i took off, alone. but of course i had to go by the shelter for walkies on my way out of town and maybe you're not surprised that i left there much later than i'd planned. that i left there, totally unprepared, with a canine companion named Mr. Banks. Godhelpme.
Cat-like quiet but overtly little grey dogish, Mr. B looks something like a Chinese Crested...sort of lion maned head with big round eyes. slick, shiney black bat ears. He's a bit rat-ish in the tail area and the fur is possom sparse along his back. then there's that slip of pink tongue that peeks out one side of his mouth. To pile on more misfortune, he's not terribly personable...not happy or friendly. He growls. You can just be holding him and without warning, he starts. he doesn't like to be reached for or led on a leash. those things also make him grumbly. But his ribs stick out and his hip bones threaten to slice through his skin, so i'm not judging. I don't think he's got a lot of reason to like us.
my thinking - what there was of it that day - went something like this:
maybe Banks could use a little R&R, as well....
it bucketed rain, we got there late, the power was off, the phone was dead. there was the dank basement, the power restored, the screech of the pump alarm. there was the prospect of two days without running water, except for the kind that was gushing off the roof. i might have turned right around and headed home but i had my cranky little companion to consider. i'd signed him out for a two day foster, so we made the best of it.
as it happened, i was the more adaptable of the two of us. i was willing to pee outside.
Banks' attitude wasn't entirely positive about this new situation, which i'd somehow mistaken for an improvement over the kennel cage. he didn't seem to be enjoying himself and i was disappointed. here's where you get into that zen-master thing. he was teaching me something about my own expectations. i'd imagined that he'd be happy and that he'd remember what it was like to be playful and trusting. and there were a couple of moments like that. but after two days of peacefulness and gentle reassurance...two days of bountiful food and the chance to run around outside, he snapped at me...not just once, but twice before calmly turning and walking into his crate. i closed the door softly behind him and never mentioned it again. but something changed for Banks. he got sick in the night and continued to have an upset g.i. tract the next day. he was cooperative but withdrawn. he seemed more sad than ever.
things improved when a friend stopped by. he immediately took to her. climbed into her lap. wanted to be held. barked at her feet for her attention. responded to her call. he'd done none of that with me.
now there's something i need to consider. i've always gotten on with dogs sort of effortlessly and here i was extending myself on behalf of this one and he wasn't buying. the easy, less humbling explanation is that i reminded him of someone negative from his past. but maybe it isn't that simple. maybe there's something i need to face, like the possibility that i was communicating my own selfish expectations...that i was looking for some change or gratitude. maybe he felt like i was using him. certainly that wasn't my intention, but dogs read the unacknowledged in us. they respond as much to what we're about as they do to what we're saying. maybe he sensed that i was after an affirmation of my own goodness or that my decision to bring him along reeked of a certain smugness...
maybe he had the sense that, of the two of us, i was more the needy.
hmm.
talk about ugly....
talk about ugly....
Friday, July 13, 2012
Benefits of Being a DogWalker
i've been putting off writing this cause i just didn't want to do it.
not sure why but something in me resists self-helpishness...not because i don't believe in it...helping one's self...but because it suggests choosing a direction and it's just not in me to stick to one.
my personal journey has been a little floppy and loose, as opposed to tight and intentional. more wayward than focused. i just sort of get a general idea about a thing and my process, after idea formation, is to see what happens. like when i was a kid, i wanted to be a ballerina/veterinarian/social worker. after i had become wife and mother, after i'd taught school, sold real estate, and had a few other occupations, i got the degree and went into social work. my progress was interrupted by a storm with furious rain and terrible lightening that snapped and tore the sky. my little boat was tossed. when the waters calmed, i started over with alpaca ranching, antiques dealing and non-profit management. seems like the map of my life, at any one point in time, would not have indicated i'd wind up happy in the company of strays, like myself.
i can't tell you how to fix things in your life. flopping around only works for some folks. but i can tell you a few things that are good about dog walkin' at the shelter...why i keep going back. why you might want to give it a try.
1. fresh air and exercise. depending on your pace and the personal trainer on the other end of the leash, it can provide a cardio workout or weight resistance. you'll engage your core and build endurance. it's not quite yoga but there's some bending...and some breath control...during the Downward-to-pick-up-Dog-poo sequence.
2. social networking. not only will you make tons of cold-nosed furry friends, you will meet other two-leggeds who care enough about dogs to brave the heat on their behalf. both types will be a comfort when times are bad.
3. soul restoration. you're doing something kind for a population whose struggles are mostly invisible to the rest of the world...making life better for one dog at a time. it will give you a perspective whereby your own blessings become more apparent - and nothing restores the soul like feeling grateful.
4. you will inevitably find your zen master - the one who teaches you what you thought you knew - if you're into that sort of thing.
5. better sleep. from all the air and the breathing it and the giving of yourself.
6. lots of grateful kisses. which are worth more than you might imagine.
not sure why but something in me resists self-helpishness...not because i don't believe in it...helping one's self...but because it suggests choosing a direction and it's just not in me to stick to one.
my personal journey has been a little floppy and loose, as opposed to tight and intentional. more wayward than focused. i just sort of get a general idea about a thing and my process, after idea formation, is to see what happens. like when i was a kid, i wanted to be a ballerina/veterinarian/social worker. after i had become wife and mother, after i'd taught school, sold real estate, and had a few other occupations, i got the degree and went into social work. my progress was interrupted by a storm with furious rain and terrible lightening that snapped and tore the sky. my little boat was tossed. when the waters calmed, i started over with alpaca ranching, antiques dealing and non-profit management. seems like the map of my life, at any one point in time, would not have indicated i'd wind up happy in the company of strays, like myself.
i can't tell you how to fix things in your life. flopping around only works for some folks. but i can tell you a few things that are good about dog walkin' at the shelter...why i keep going back. why you might want to give it a try.
1. fresh air and exercise. depending on your pace and the personal trainer on the other end of the leash, it can provide a cardio workout or weight resistance. you'll engage your core and build endurance. it's not quite yoga but there's some bending...and some breath control...during the Downward-to-pick-up-Dog-poo sequence.
2. social networking. not only will you make tons of cold-nosed furry friends, you will meet other two-leggeds who care enough about dogs to brave the heat on their behalf. both types will be a comfort when times are bad.
3. soul restoration. you're doing something kind for a population whose struggles are mostly invisible to the rest of the world...making life better for one dog at a time. it will give you a perspective whereby your own blessings become more apparent - and nothing restores the soul like feeling grateful.
4. you will inevitably find your zen master - the one who teaches you what you thought you knew - if you're into that sort of thing.
5. better sleep. from all the air and the breathing it and the giving of yourself.
6. lots of grateful kisses. which are worth more than you might imagine.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
update on the little stray dog
i visited him today. found him shivering in the corner of his cage. he hadn't eaten or pooped. he was just stuck to that back wall. i coaxed him out and held him for a while. actually, he clung to me and stuck his head under my chin, like he was hiding. his toenails had been trimmed and i was relieved to see that his wee feet looked normal. state law requires that strays be held for 72 hours in case an owner might show up to claim them, regardless of how unlikely that seems. then they become county property, to be put up for adoption or not, as the deciders deem appropriate, so he won't be bathed till his hours are up and his stinky mats are sad to see. he hadn't eaten so i found some canned food and he tucked into it with some interest. he was sleeping when i left.
turned out, he had been dumped at the shelter two days ago, with a parakeet. they were able to get the bird but not the little guy. i'd say we can be pretty sure nobody's going to claim him and if they tried, they'd meet a hostile wall of people between themselves and the little stray cause everyone there knows his story. everyone there...every single person...was celebrating when they found out he was safe. i find that very moving...very telling about the folks who work there...very important about the place.
and just so you know, i did already put my name on his file, to say i'd take him as a foster if he needs care. AND there's another woman - a passerby who tried to help catch him initially - who has said she wants him, regardless of what they find. so maybe there's hope.
turned out, he had been dumped at the shelter two days ago, with a parakeet. they were able to get the bird but not the little guy. i'd say we can be pretty sure nobody's going to claim him and if they tried, they'd meet a hostile wall of people between themselves and the little stray cause everyone there knows his story. everyone there...every single person...was celebrating when they found out he was safe. i find that very moving...very telling about the folks who work there...very important about the place.
and just so you know, i did already put my name on his file, to say i'd take him as a foster if he needs care. AND there's another woman - a passerby who tried to help catch him initially - who has said she wants him, regardless of what they find. so maybe there's hope.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)