Good Deeds, Bad Roofs, and Big Questions
Needed to scoot back over to my friends house to cat tend and plant water today. Gray day with "mixed precip" but the cat has been waiting longer than I can tolerate (though she is well set up with food, water, and litter boxes).
Decided to bring PJ. Always hard to bring one of the group but PJ, as the bottom rung of our canine totem pole, really needs one-on-one time with me or rather, really, no other dog time. She is sensitive and steps back easier than forward so when she is on her own with me, she positively giggles with delight.
PJ is a friend - a calm, sweet, wickedly smart, friend. She is not a dog I "own", she is a dog who decided a while back she likes me and treats me that way. It's a funny thing, unlike any other relationship I've had with a canine, and I've had a few. You know the wonder of having a wild animal pause and watch you for a bit or a bird land near you and not fly away? That's what it is like to be with PJ.
She's a good friend, too. She doesn't dote or cling, but she's always aware of what's going on and if I am even remotely in a bad spot, she is there - swift silence - asking with her eyes, Do you need me?
Restrained - present - sensible - gentle... I doubt I will ever be graced with such a companion again. She came to us as a post 9/11 foster in 2001 and, in a tale familiar to fostering families everywhere, she never left.
Our friends place is way back and up a rather major driveway. Not trusting the way to be anything but slick, I parked below and put on my ice boots (with metal pegs in the bottom) and off we went.
The woods were winter quiet, just the sound of my breathing as we climbed - PJ was silent - of course. As we crested the rise I saw what I did not expect - the roof of their covered building, folded in on itself - collapsed under the weight of the recent snow and ice.
PJ and I walked the perimeter for not real reason. I wasn't going in, that's for sure, but you kind have to go a look - like slowing down when passing a wreck. Nothing I could do - nothing they can do. So after snapping a few pix to forward on, I went and tended the very happy to see me cat.
As I scooped her boxes, stroked her purring belly and got rubbed up against as I laughed... I pondered a thread over at MySmartPuppy while I also pondered Maya Angelou's wise words "When someone shows you who they are, believe them."
When your dog snaps at your child - believe them. Believe them 100%, they cannot speak more plainly and yet people dismiss it. I don't know why. Well I do. The blindness of love - they think because they love their dog and their dog loves them that the dog must be a "nice dog".
Nope. Not if you believe what a dog tells you, and you should.
It's hard to watch - I call this "Picnicking on the railroad tracks." The train whistle is blowing in the distance - but getting closer and closer. But they don't move. The tracks rumble and they share a finger sandwich.
So many bites on children could be avoided if parents just took dogs at their word. If they had a babysitter in the house who spun on the child, grabbed him and snarled in his face that one more step and she'd stab him but good - said while she brandishes a knife to his face - I doubt any parent on the planet would say "Oh, okay, well, she's such a nice woman and she's so nice to me that we're keeping her!"
Sigh... the question is how to get this message across before the child needs facial reconstruction and the dog faces a one way trip to the vet.
Not happy thoughts. As I lock the house back up, I glance down at my funny little girl and feel grateful. Grateful that I believe what she tells me and she tells me good things.
We wander back down the driveway - past moose tracks and dung, bare birches and drooping pine branches - and take in this moment of peace together.
We can only do what we can - and, at least today, we do it together.
Onward - Sarah
posted by Sarah Wilson - Teacher's Pet @ 12:25 PM
3 Comments
3 Comments:
One of the things that at the root of my preference, broadly speaking, for spending time with animals over people is that very clarity. Dogs (and cats, horses, etc.) are telling you who they are and what they're about every moment. People tend to do that too, if you're watching them closely enough, but they're too skilled at deceiving themselves and others for it to be the same experience of relaxed clarity. I'd much rather deal with a dog telling me it doesn't trust or like me than a person who tries to fake it.
People surely don't just do this with dogs- I can't count the number of people I've known who, when dealing with family, friends, or significant others, ignored that person telling them who they really were and what their real agenda was on all levels. People want other people- or dogs- to be what they want or need them to be, not what they really are... and they're willing to go through all sorts of self-deception to keep that idea. Sometimes until it's too late.
Ah, nice post for so many reasons. The pictures are a nice addition because they do capture what you are writing about.
I know I spend a lot of time looking at my boys ... may not understand all the time what I am seeing. But I think I know when what they are telling me is urgent.
I look forward to your blogging!
PoochProfessor here...Beautiful portrait in words and photos. I can sense the quiet of the snow...and the sounds your feet made and you crunched through it. I love the snow in PJ's beard, too.
I think those of us who work with dogs have a more finely-tuned understanding of how undeceptive they are. When you've had your hands on thousands of dogs, each unique, but all uncomplicated at the core, you cannot deny the power of their simplicity.
This is true for pet owners, too, but I'm talking about dogs who don't belong to you, as well. Some of my most cherished truths came from dogs who I did not own, who I didn't have any desire to own. I allowed myself to learn from them, and was amply rewarded.
Thanks, Sarah. Keep yourself warm.
Post a Comment
<< Home