Random Acts of Kindness November 11, 2014

I don’t know much when it comes to the high school experience. Or school in general, I suppose, since I have made all foreseeable efforts to avoid it like the plague for the majority of my doggie life. There is a reason I’m known as an obedience school drop out, and its honestly something I bear as a badge of honor more than a black mark on my otherwise decent record.

I do know my forever parents had fairly differing experiences in high school. Mom was the A student who was in every club imaginable. Dad was the popular jock who played soccer and hung out with anyone and everyone. What united their experiences was a similar disbelief in the cliche that high school is the best years of your life. They both knew better then and live that truth to this day. 

I’m sure experiences differ from person to person as they do for my people, but I heard something about a high school today that gave me pause. Random arts of kindness. The students throughout the school are leaving various kinds of artwork throughout the halls as a scavenger hunt of sorts for all things good. They are using social media outlets like Twitter to spread the joy beyond the hallways of the school. They are exhibiting joy, from the ground up.

I don’t know much about the high school experience. But I do know enough to know this is likely something kind of special. In a society where bullying continues to play too big a role in all types of social hierarchy, it’s refreshing to hear something like this is happening in schools. It renews my sense of faith in people to do the right thing in spite of peer pressure and all kinds of other reasons not to.

And it reminds me that no matter how far out of school we are, this is what we ought to strive for in our lives. Because let’s face it, bullying doesn’t just happen in schools. Violence is not reserved for the lunchroom. And peer pressure doesn’t end when you hand in your cap and gown after graduation.

These are real things people live with every single day. Why not offset some of that with some random acts of kindness of our own? I think the methods will likely be different for everyone, but you know as well as I do the method doesn’t really matter. What matters is the heart behind it. And the heart receiving it. Because tomorrow is the first day of the rest of our lives. Together, we can make it a better place.

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Along Memory Lane February 18, 2014

It doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s all blue skies and sunshine. Lately there’s even been a lot of playing with a slightly more grown up version of Carter. But every now and then I get a glimpse of the past in my doggie daydreams.

Today I was back on the streets with Tiger (the inappropriately named lab who I came to think of as family). It’s funny how having a little person of my own changes how I reflect on the time I spent helping him care for his puppies. This occurred to me as my daydream trip down memory lane took me to a fateful day. It was like I was there again.

It was Tiger and I against the world. Usually we stayed on our part of town but not that day. That day our search for food brought us into a territory better left alone. We were met there by a brutish pack of dogs just as fierce as rumor had it. Except for one thing. We had a lot at stake. We had three little puppy mouths to feed. And we were not going to negotiate with bullies.

That’s the thing about bullying. They stay in power as long as they are allowed to do so. Stand up to them, put them in their (not so powerful) place, and in a way you stand up for every other victim of their bullying. It’s not always easy, and might not always take on the first try, but persistence will pay off in one way or another.

If not for the bullies, for those who took a stand. It wasn’t easy to cross enemy lines that day, but I’m glad we did it. Sure, we got the food we sought. But we got more than that. We stood up to the bullies and (more importantly) we lived to tell the tale.

The past has a way of making its way into my present in the oddest ways sometimes. And today I’m so glad it did. Because every now and then we need reminders of where we came from to light the path to where we’re going.

Try Try Again October 30, 2013

I had it out with the neighbor dog today. Twice. That’s right – Demon Dog and I had words. Well, I’m sure it sounded like barks to the outside observer. But I could no longer sit idly by and stare at him silently while he goes into his fits of rage from the other side of the fence. I had to do something.

So I walked myself (all right, okay, I ran myself) to the very end of the lead (about 30 feet from my backdoor, and about 20 feet from Demon Dog) and I said some things that needed to be said. I told him I don’t know why he’s so angry. I told him I wished we could be friends. That I would listen to whatever struggles he’d lived through and help him find some joy in new beginnings.

But it ended just like it started, with him pacing and panting and growling and snarling. He even digs around a bit at the hole he’s created underneath the fence that separates us. And his bark? Quite frankly it’s terrifying.

I tried again the next time I was outside, but it seemed to be in vain. Also, my people were very unhappy with my efforts as it is incredibly rare for me to bark at anything besides the animals that occasionally come into the living room via the television.

I don’t understand it. We canines don’t discriminate from one breed to another, but I guess people call his a bully breed. And my experiences have shown me why – not only with my neighbor, but also with the dog who attacked me at the dog park. I thought I was a goner that day when he had me by my collar dangling me around from his perch atop that picnic table.

Obviously I survived to tell the tale, but it bothers me that these dogs – these bullies – are out there making a bad name for others of their breed who are capable of love and compassion. Being known as a bully is not an excuse for bad behavior any more than it should be a label on others with a similar appearance.

So I won’t give up on Demon Dog. I had it out with him today and my message didn’t take. And I know I need to be honest with myself – it may never take. But as American actress Shay Mitchell put it “I realized that bullying never has to do with you. It’s the bully who’s insecure.”

He’s strong and confident (at least from what I can tell by his barking habits), but there must be something more there. A past. Some memories. A story that may explain where he came from and why he is the way he is. We all do. And in a world that frequently uses labels as excuses, I’m taking a stand for new beginnings. It’s better to try and fail than to never have tried at all.