A lot of great things have happened for me recently, and I'll write about them next, but tonight my heart is filled with philosophical bittersweet-ness. I'll explain:
Mormons, like all Christians, love parables and have come up with several of our own modern allegories in order to illustrate the ways and workings of God. (speaking of, perhaps I should get in touch with Sheri Dew and ask if she is interested in putting together a book. hmmm... there might be money to be made here...) One parable in particular tells of a man who is walking along a beach and encounters another man combing the beach for stranded starfish and throwing them back into the ocean. The man asks the other " Why are you wasting your time? You can't possibly save them all. It won't make much of a difference." to which the other man replies to the sceptic "It did for that one."
This story became my life philosophy. I decided that to save a life, if only just once would be satisfying for me. That is, it was before I met Evo.
In order to understand why this puppy means so much to me, we need to move back a couple of months. Last April, my family lost our gorgeous German Shepherd mix, Luke. He had been in our family for almost 10 years, and his death was surprising and mercifully sudden. In fact, he died in my arms( so to speak; he was 120lbs. I basically just held his giant head and sobbed as I told him he could go. ) By miraculous circumstances, we were all there by his side when he went, and we all knew that the Lord had given us a great gift. My siblings and I all loved him, but out of all of us, I think I took his passing the hardest. (all though, my youngest sister Allysann has been reported to say that she will "never love[another dog] again." Very Dawson's Creek). As to be expected, there was a huge hole left in our home without him there, and I found myself mourning in a very embarrassing manner...
My mother, unable to cope with the void Luke left behind, convinced my Dad to allow for another dog in our home. Only this one was to be the size of the fur balls Ally used to collect off Luke's shedding hide. To the elitist hybrid breeders, he is a 'malkie'- a Maltese/ Yorkie mix. He's tiny, no more then 4lbs, which makes him 1/25 of the dog we used to have. My mother named him Ernest, after the play 'The Importance of Being Earnest' . This little guy has an endearing way about him, but he has had great difficulty with house training. One day, my mom and I took him to Petsmart for some supplies. She found a dog trainer there and sat down to consult with her about Ernie's little problem. While I waited, I found that the trainer had her demo dog there, waiting patiently and serenely for her attention because that's what Golden Retrievers do. They're basically perfect. I started to scratch him behind his ears and he just fell limp at my feet. I sat down beside him and started to rub his tummy (something I'm very good at, I might add), and I began to realize how much I missed snuggling up to a furry dog with bulk. Before I knew it, tears began to roll down my cheeks. The startled trainer asked me if I wanted her to take him away, and I told her no. I just sat there, like a boobing idiot, petting that animal and wondering where my own Lukie had gone.
Now for the good part. I had made Evo's acquaintance only shortly before Luke had died. He, like all the dogs I work with, had a sad story. His previous owner dumped him at the Humane Society with some lame excuse and left him there to die. Evo wasn't even put up for adoption. He was set for euthanization the moment he arrived because his owner claimed he was 'an escape artist'. This is a ignorant assessment because:
a) ALL HUSKIES ARE ESCAPE ARTISTS! It is part of their breed! They, more then any other type of dogs take after their vulpine forefathers. They're roamers and they're hunters. They're very prey driven and they are not safe with children, cats, or even sometimes small dogs. A lot of people get Huskies because they think they are beautiful or cool, but they know very little about the breed and as a result, the dogs get dumped, and the lucky ones end up with people like Maren. I shudder to think about all those that aren't lucky. Evo wasn't meant to be. He was scheduled to die when he was only 8 months old. I have some choice words for this loser of a owner, but being a Christian woman, I just can't say it! Seriously though, irresponsible people like this are pimples on the butt of humanity.
b) Evo has been assessed by an expert, and we think he might be part German Shepherd. Because of this, he has some very shepherd- like qualities. We learned that when Kahlua got out and was killed, Evo not only stayed put, but kept the other dog in the yard too. He's highly intelligent, and very protective. This is not the making of un-controlable, wild, dog.
But I digress. Continuing on with the story: The head of the Adoption Services at the Humane Society couldn't bring herself to destroy such a beautiful dog, so she contacted Maren and asked her to take him. We didn't have room for Evo at first, so she kept him for about a month before Maren could pick him up.
In the beginning, he broke my heart. He was very nervous around people, particularly children, and didn't want to be petted. He would bark loudly at any strangers that came into the shop and would run away if anyone approached him. Except me. I'd like to say that I have a special gift with animals, and that they instantly sense my aura of compassion and fun when we meet, but I'll be honest, I think the reason the dogs are never intimidated by me is because I'm 4' 10'' in all my glory and they can take me down anytime they want. And I'm always equipped with a leash and a treat. No matter what home they come from, they recognize these things as sign of good will. This probably dates back to the Pre-existence.
I learned very quickly that I had to watch which routes I took him on, because when I went into a overly crowded area, people inevitably wanted to stop me and pet him, which he was not comfortable with. I began a routine with him, and took him the on the same path everyday, so that he would become more secure with me and his surroundings. He did beautifully. Soon he had our walk memorized and he was as well behaved on a leash as I could ask for. (although, he has recently displayed a tendency for J-walking...) I began to trust him so much that I our walks went from being a half an hour to an hour and a half. I learned that I could take him anywhere, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. I even found a little fenced-park where I could let him off his leash and let him run. Evo would come right back to me the moment I called. He loved it, and he loved me. He was never much of a licker, but he would greet me every day by jumping up on me. He's big enough that his paws would rest on shoulders. I didn't mind it at all. It was like getting a hug, doggie style. He learned that he enjoyed being petted and scratched and came up with a system to let me know when he wanted my attention. I came to love this animal more then any other dog I've worked with at the shelter, past and present. After I would walk him, I would sit with him and cuddle him before I had to leave. He came to expect it, and was all too willing to lay his big furry head in my lap.
Mormons, like all Christians, love parables and have come up with several of our own modern allegories in order to illustrate the ways and workings of God. (speaking of, perhaps I should get in touch with Sheri Dew and ask if she is interested in putting together a book. hmmm... there might be money to be made here...) One parable in particular tells of a man who is walking along a beach and encounters another man combing the beach for stranded starfish and throwing them back into the ocean. The man asks the other " Why are you wasting your time? You can't possibly save them all. It won't make much of a difference." to which the other man replies to the sceptic "It did for that one."
This story became my life philosophy. I decided that to save a life, if only just once would be satisfying for me. That is, it was before I met Evo.
In order to understand why this puppy means so much to me, we need to move back a couple of months. Last April, my family lost our gorgeous German Shepherd mix, Luke. He had been in our family for almost 10 years, and his death was surprising and mercifully sudden. In fact, he died in my arms( so to speak; he was 120lbs. I basically just held his giant head and sobbed as I told him he could go. ) By miraculous circumstances, we were all there by his side when he went, and we all knew that the Lord had given us a great gift. My siblings and I all loved him, but out of all of us, I think I took his passing the hardest. (all though, my youngest sister Allysann has been reported to say that she will "never love[another dog] again." Very Dawson's Creek). As to be expected, there was a huge hole left in our home without him there, and I found myself mourning in a very embarrassing manner...
My mother, unable to cope with the void Luke left behind, convinced my Dad to allow for another dog in our home. Only this one was to be the size of the fur balls Ally used to collect off Luke's shedding hide. To the elitist hybrid breeders, he is a 'malkie'- a Maltese/ Yorkie mix. He's tiny, no more then 4lbs, which makes him 1/25 of the dog we used to have. My mother named him Ernest, after the play 'The Importance of Being Earnest' . This little guy has an endearing way about him, but he has had great difficulty with house training. One day, my mom and I took him to Petsmart for some supplies. She found a dog trainer there and sat down to consult with her about Ernie's little problem. While I waited, I found that the trainer had her demo dog there, waiting patiently and serenely for her attention because that's what Golden Retrievers do. They're basically perfect. I started to scratch him behind his ears and he just fell limp at my feet. I sat down beside him and started to rub his tummy (something I'm very good at, I might add), and I began to realize how much I missed snuggling up to a furry dog with bulk. Before I knew it, tears began to roll down my cheeks. The startled trainer asked me if I wanted her to take him away, and I told her no. I just sat there, like a boobing idiot, petting that animal and wondering where my own Lukie had gone.
Now for the good part. I had made Evo's acquaintance only shortly before Luke had died. He, like all the dogs I work with, had a sad story. His previous owner dumped him at the Humane Society with some lame excuse and left him there to die. Evo wasn't even put up for adoption. He was set for euthanization the moment he arrived because his owner claimed he was 'an escape artist'. This is a ignorant assessment because:
a) ALL HUSKIES ARE ESCAPE ARTISTS! It is part of their breed! They, more then any other type of dogs take after their vulpine forefathers. They're roamers and they're hunters. They're very prey driven and they are not safe with children, cats, or even sometimes small dogs. A lot of people get Huskies because they think they are beautiful or cool, but they know very little about the breed and as a result, the dogs get dumped, and the lucky ones end up with people like Maren. I shudder to think about all those that aren't lucky. Evo wasn't meant to be. He was scheduled to die when he was only 8 months old. I have some choice words for this loser of a owner, but being a Christian woman, I just can't say it! Seriously though, irresponsible people like this are pimples on the butt of humanity.
b) Evo has been assessed by an expert, and we think he might be part German Shepherd. Because of this, he has some very shepherd- like qualities. We learned that when Kahlua got out and was killed, Evo not only stayed put, but kept the other dog in the yard too. He's highly intelligent, and very protective. This is not the making of un-controlable, wild, dog.
But I digress. Continuing on with the story: The head of the Adoption Services at the Humane Society couldn't bring herself to destroy such a beautiful dog, so she contacted Maren and asked her to take him. We didn't have room for Evo at first, so she kept him for about a month before Maren could pick him up.
In the beginning, he broke my heart. He was very nervous around people, particularly children, and didn't want to be petted. He would bark loudly at any strangers that came into the shop and would run away if anyone approached him. Except me. I'd like to say that I have a special gift with animals, and that they instantly sense my aura of compassion and fun when we meet, but I'll be honest, I think the reason the dogs are never intimidated by me is because I'm 4' 10'' in all my glory and they can take me down anytime they want. And I'm always equipped with a leash and a treat. No matter what home they come from, they recognize these things as sign of good will. This probably dates back to the Pre-existence.
I learned very quickly that I had to watch which routes I took him on, because when I went into a overly crowded area, people inevitably wanted to stop me and pet him, which he was not comfortable with. I began a routine with him, and took him the on the same path everyday, so that he would become more secure with me and his surroundings. He did beautifully. Soon he had our walk memorized and he was as well behaved on a leash as I could ask for. (although, he has recently displayed a tendency for J-walking...) I began to trust him so much that I our walks went from being a half an hour to an hour and a half. I learned that I could take him anywhere, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. I even found a little fenced-park where I could let him off his leash and let him run. Evo would come right back to me the moment I called. He loved it, and he loved me. He was never much of a licker, but he would greet me every day by jumping up on me. He's big enough that his paws would rest on shoulders. I didn't mind it at all. It was like getting a hug, doggie style. He learned that he enjoyed being petted and scratched and came up with a system to let me know when he wanted my attention. I came to love this animal more then any other dog I've worked with at the shelter, past and present. After I would walk him, I would sit with him and cuddle him before I had to leave. He came to expect it, and was all too willing to lay his big furry head in my lap.
Maren was pleased that I was willing to spend so much time with him. She said it was good for him to be socialized and all my work with him was going to help him get adopted. We started taking him to dog shows and demos, and he stopped traffic wherever he went because he was so pretty. She said it was all positive training for him. But what she didn't know is that Evo was doing much more for me then I was for him. My heart still hurts when I go home to a house that doesn't have a loud, hairy beast that's just begging for me to pay attention to him and scratch his bum, but that was momentarily forgotten when I had the chance to focus on another creature who needed me as badly as I needed him. And not just for grieving. These past couple of months have been very difficult for me and I have struggled worse then I have in years. I felt very alone, and socially neglected. It seemed like everybody wanted something from me, but nobody cared that I was hurting. But I'm the kind of person who needs desperately to be needed, and Evo gave me a sense of purpose. People who don't like or understand dogs can't visualize them being self aware, but not only are they capable of feelings, but they are capable of sensing emotions in others. That is why they are so often used in therapy. My mom once said that Luke was her therapy dog. Evo was mine.
I keep using past tense, and the reason for that is because today Evo was adopted. I should be happy about it; it's the whole objective of what I do. Maren was even kind enough to let me meet the people who were taking him and even asked for my input- which she is under no obligation to do. I felt like these people were nice, but twits- the girlfriend in the couple asked me if we 'could train Evo to not kill their cat'. Now, like I said, Evo is a very good dog, and very well mannered, for a Husky. I've seen him by-pass birds, dogs, rodents, bugs, garbage , all kinds of distractions in the dog world. But he's still a dog and cats are his weakness. Anytime he sees one he tries to convince me that it should be on the menu. You can only ask so much from a dog! I felt like asking her if she felt like a lioness could be trained not to kill a weak and sickly antelope.
However, Maren has warned them of the risks and since Evo does have so many shepherding qualities, she thinks it's possible that he can learn to go against his nature. She's the boss. I prayed that she would find the best home for him and this is what she felt inspired to do. At least these people are athletic, active people and judging by their insistence that they adopt him, even at great peril to dear old fluffy, I feel confident that they can love him enough. I just know that when I walk in to the shop on Monday morning to walk the other dogs, I'm going to remember that he's no longer there, and there will be another hole in my heart. For a little while, anyway.
I took him out today one last time and made him sit with me while I took a picture of us on my phone. It's not that great, but in my defense, he was distracted by two stately German Shepherds across the street-which to his enormous credit, he did stay sitting- and I had a hard time fitting both his fat head and mine in the frame. Anyway, the point is, I may not have been the one to take him out of death row, but I dedicated a great deal of time and effort and even some expense to enrich his life so that he would learn what it felt like to be truly loved. But in the end, although I wasn't about to slit my wrists or anything, he gave me a reason for living. Moral of the story: you give a little love and it all comes back to you...
I keep using past tense, and the reason for that is because today Evo was adopted. I should be happy about it; it's the whole objective of what I do. Maren was even kind enough to let me meet the people who were taking him and even asked for my input- which she is under no obligation to do. I felt like these people were nice, but twits- the girlfriend in the couple asked me if we 'could train Evo to not kill their cat'. Now, like I said, Evo is a very good dog, and very well mannered, for a Husky. I've seen him by-pass birds, dogs, rodents, bugs, garbage , all kinds of distractions in the dog world. But he's still a dog and cats are his weakness. Anytime he sees one he tries to convince me that it should be on the menu. You can only ask so much from a dog! I felt like asking her if she felt like a lioness could be trained not to kill a weak and sickly antelope.
However, Maren has warned them of the risks and since Evo does have so many shepherding qualities, she thinks it's possible that he can learn to go against his nature. She's the boss. I prayed that she would find the best home for him and this is what she felt inspired to do. At least these people are athletic, active people and judging by their insistence that they adopt him, even at great peril to dear old fluffy, I feel confident that they can love him enough. I just know that when I walk in to the shop on Monday morning to walk the other dogs, I'm going to remember that he's no longer there, and there will be another hole in my heart. For a little while, anyway.
I took him out today one last time and made him sit with me while I took a picture of us on my phone. It's not that great, but in my defense, he was distracted by two stately German Shepherds across the street-which to his enormous credit, he did stay sitting- and I had a hard time fitting both his fat head and mine in the frame. Anyway, the point is, I may not have been the one to take him out of death row, but I dedicated a great deal of time and effort and even some expense to enrich his life so that he would learn what it felt like to be truly loved. But in the end, although I wasn't about to slit my wrists or anything, he gave me a reason for living. Moral of the story: you give a little love and it all comes back to you...
Deedle :( I'm so sorry for your loss. This business you're in is a very heart breaking one isn't it? I love ya and I'm here if you need to talk.
ReplyDeleteLa la la la la la la! Danielle, you know you're gonna be remembered for the things that you say and do!
ReplyDelete