Hello dear readers,
I wanted to let you know how excited I am to attend the American Humanist Association’s annual conference this year. None of the cost was paid for by those of you who are generous enough to support my work with your hard-earned dollars. I get on a plane on Friday, and I will be sharing what happens.
Rather than using my subscription proceeds for other purposes, I pay your generosity forward to help dogs and cats in need. The two primary recurring donations go to my local Humane Society and Grey Muzzle.
I was a bad pet owner the first time around, and I’ll never stop trying to atone for keeping Monkey in a crate while no one was home. She was a lovely creature, and she died in my arms after being with me for about five years. I think she had a brain aneurysm. I miss her still. She taught me about myself, and about why dogs are in many ways better than we humans. Mostly, though, she taught me about love.
A dog’s love is precious, and yet so many of us take our dogs for granted. Monkey taught me that I can be a better human, and she taught me patience, and forgiveness. One day, when I am ready, I will post a picture. And give more context.
I used to be married, and my ex could not pass a stray dog without stopping to coax it into the vehicle so she could help it thrive. It got crowded in our 2,000 sq. ft. ranch house. It was raucous. It was chaotic. It was filled with love until I went to war. That’s another story for another day. Sometimes things spiral.
This story is about how dogs and humans connect, and about where your subscriptions go. They go towards being kind to dogs, and supporting their needs. In particular, abused dogs, and senior dogs who do not have a forever home.
It is because I am evolving, and I am trying to live what many canines have showed me about what matters in life.
Sweetie dropped dead in the hallway while I was getting ready for work. I didn’t go to work that day. Instead, I dug her grave by hand, and I said some parting words to thank her when I lowered her into it. We had 21 acres, and I dug in a place where I thought appropriate, and planted a tree on top. Sometimes I dream of finding her in the hallway, gone.
She was a rescue.
Gilbert died of a brain tumor, and Maggie passed away from the varying afflictions that come with surviving until it all comes together and shuts you down. Both had many good years in between this picture and their expirations.
They were both rescues.
Bandit was deaf, so he didn’t know that his bark sounded funny. He was incredibly smart, and spent his life herding all the other rescues, because that’s what he was born to do, and that’s what he did until he passed away.
I’ve been a part of rescuing hundreds of dogs from other humans who didn’t live up to what these beautiful creatures were offering. When I’m laying on my deathbed, I’ll be thinking of all the fur babies who crossed the bridge before me, and I know that they way I’ve treated them, and every living thing my life touched, mattered.
Thank you for being a subscriber, and thank you for sharing these memories. If you stick around, I promise to share more memories of the many amazing mutts (and purebreds) who forced me to become a better human just by being themselves.
I usually start my morning with coffee, HCR and Hubbell. I decided to click on your "ET" instead today. Glad I did. A person often reveals themselves through their pets (I think animal companions sounds better). Thanks for sharing this part of your life. It colors how we understand you. For some it's cats. (Hi Karen RN). TCinLA reveals another surprising side of himself when he posts a "Feline Friday". Whodathunk?
I've been lucky to have enjoyed both cats and dogs - the choice also driven by the partner of that time period. I wrote about our Sophie - I know you have read it. Here it is for anyone who didn't and is interested. https://billalstrom.substack.com/p/chosen
Sophie will turn 11 next month. She's slowing down. Lot's more grey (like me!). Still healthy. But if she doesn't eat her breakfast right away it sends me into a worry tizzy. Did we give her too many treats the night before? Is there something wrong? I'll hand feed her a bit. And then she will eventually woof the bowl. Oy.
After we retired from inn keeping, I found myself volunteering at the rescue organization that had saved and provided Sophie. I was a sort of "scout". My job was to drive all around the region and visit prospective adopters. I had a check list of questions - mostly about the safety of the home, inside and out. But the home visits always led to training discussions, past experiences, who was to be the primary care giver, etc. I was the final sign off before the dog was released to the applicant. I think I might have said no only twice. I met so many wonderful people who were so excited about their new pup. Old folks, kids and every age in between.
That ended with the Pandemic. And then my life got filled with a couple of grandchildren who are like wild puppies, too. But great memories and I was able to help in the rescuing process. So many dogs need to be saved....
Thanks again for sharing this side of you.
What lovely memories... caring for another being, especially a vulnerable person or animal, creates a special bond.