Some believe in the Holy Trinity. Others (who don’t) still see three as a sacred number. Little ole me? I believe the opposite of the baseball metaphor that you’re out after three strikes. Indeed, I would argue that three is a Holy number that enables the magic to happen. The third time was the charm in my life and I can’t say I’d change that.
The way I see it, I’ve had three real “homes” in my life.
The first was the home I had with my mom and brothers before we were separated. I was so happy there, amidst my true biological pack. I would wish we had never been separated if not for the happiness I have in life now.
The second was the home I had with Jo and the man with the leather belt. I know most dogs (and maybe even some people) would question how I could possibly see this stop in my heritage as a home in my life. But I also know I’ve said before that home is where the heart is, and (while I lived there), my heart was home with Jo. I loved her more than most canines I’d ever encountered, and I know she loved me. It wasn’t always the most pleasant experience for me when she squeezed me so hard I thought I’d surely lose an organ, but at least I knew in those precious moments I was loved. She was home to me, and that was enough.
Finally (after a couple of stints in the humane society), I found my forever home, and (let me tell you) that has been pretty darned special. My forever mom sometimes hugs me as hard as Jo did, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of Jo in those moments. I hope from the bottom of my doggie heart she is thriving in the world and has found something to do that brings purpose to all that love in her heart.
Thinking about Jo and my birth family make me realize the only demons I encounter in my present are from my past. But (as with anything) I do my very best to find joy in even the oddest of places. Demons don’t scare me anymore. Instead I see the less-than-favorable demons of my past in the light of the angels now, as I find joy in all experiences that lead to learning and the betterment of my general well-being.
I wouldn’t be the dog I am without being separated from the emotional steadiness of my birth mom and brothers. I wouldn’t have the heart I do without my time with Jo and the man with the leather belt. And I certainly wouldn’t know true unconditional love if not for my current situation in my forever home.
I’ve said before that I am a believer in second, third, fourth and fifth chances. Furthermore, that I believe the opposite of the baseball metaphor that you’re out of chances after three strikes. Instead, I would argue that three is a holy number when the magic happens. The third time was the charm in my life and I can’t say I’d change that.
For me, the third time has been the charm. I don’t care if my mom sometimes hugs me so hard it hurts my little doggie lungs, because I know that is my own personal sign of progression in life. I may not always have had it this good, and now I am loved enough to get my fair share of regular hugs. Forget you, demons of my past. I’m a much bigger fan of the angels.