Our Little Guy October 11, 2013

That didn’t last long. Less than ten days ago, I (figuratively) raised a scruffy paw in favor of staying scruffy for a cause. There was only one flaw in my plan. There is no really good way for me to communicate these kinds of choices I make with my forever people. They clearly didn’t get the message.

The good news is I saw my beloved groomer Mary and all my Paws R Us pals this week. The bad news? I’m no longer a participant in Scruffy September. Sure, I went a tiny bit longer without my routine visit to Mary. And I remain committed to the Out of the Darkness cause regardless. But I can no longer call myself scruffy.

At first I was kind of bummed out about it. Then it happened. Dad said it out loud. The news I have been dreading (and mentally denying) for the last eight months or so. You see, dad has been having awful itchy red eyes for some time now at seemingly random times. It’s not exactly constant, but its bothersome frequently enough he finally went to see an eye specialist today. And she confirmed the truth.

Dad, my forever person, is allergic. To me. I listened in horror as dad explained the outcome of his appointment to mom over dinner. The doctor apparently went as far as to inquire whether they-my people-would consider finding me another home. I felt like I’d been kicked. Hard. Right in the heart. My mind raced with questions I couldn’t ask. Silence was not my friend. And time seemed to slow to an absolute crawl.

I can honestly say I’ve never been so happy to hear dad laugh.

“I told her there is no way,” I heard him say as he looked down at me. “He’s our little guy and he always will be, won’t you buddy?”

Relief does not even begin to describe the feeling that washed over me in that moment. Seconds earlier I had been temporarily paralyzed with fear (that I would have to go back the humane society again, would never see my beloved people again, and would never get to meet my new little person). Now it was like I had the life breathed back into me.

They went on with their conversation, strategizing about ways to more effectively control my dander like vacuuming and brushing me more frequently. And I thought to myself “self, it’s not so bad being groomed more frequently if it means you get to stay a part of this family.” And it’s not. I quite enjoy seeing Mary and my pals. I will do anything I can do to help control this pet dander that is apparently contributing to my dad’s painful allergies. Because I love him, and (even though he never will admit it) he loves me. And, as Mahatma Gandhi so aptly observed, “where there is love there is life.”

So what if Scruffy September for a cause didn’t last very long. Because dad’s love for me clearly will. And that means the world to me.

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Paws For A Cause September 3, 2013

The sun is always shining. No one goes hungry. And everyone has a dog.

There is a common misconception (even among my people) that dogs who stay home alone while they’re away at that place called work do nothing but sleep their days away. While there is some truth to this (I do nap throughout the day), one thing is for sure. Among other things, my mind is always an active place where the sun shines, there is plenty of food to go around, and everyone knows the love of a dog.

Waking and sleeping, these are parts of a much larger dream world I spend a lot of time in throughout my days. We all have one – a “happy place” in our minds we retreat to in good times and bad. And it looks different for everyone. But every now and then something reminds me that its all just a dream. That is, until I do something to make it a reality.

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer,” suggested American patriot Harriet Tubman. “Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.”

Strength. Patience. Passion. These are the ingredients for positive change.

Albeit I have absolutely no control over the sun (nor do I think it would actually be that great an idea for it to shine literally all the time). I also cannot solve the global problem that is world hunger no matter how badly I wish I could. And I can’t undo the allergies people have to pet dander.

But I can stand firmly behind a cause. Animal rescue. If strength, patience and passion create a recipe for dreamer success, rescue is itself my recipe come to life. Rescue is a second chance. Renewal. A fresh start.

In my dreamscape, no one in need of rescue would go ignored. Because there’s this surprising thing I’ve noticed about my dream of being rescued becoming a reality. Its contagious. Many of the dogs I know who were rescued in turn rescued their person in some way. Not always, and perhaps not right away, but in some (literal or figurative) way, the rescuee becomes the rescuer.

It is this above all else that I dream about while my people are away at that place called work all day. I dream about helping others find their forever people just as I did. About second chances. About hope. Hope for positive change in the lives of others. My efforts might be small in the grand scheme of things. But they’re not small to me.

An organization called Rescue Pledge believes in the power of rescue just like me.
Please consider standing with me. Take the Rescue Pledge today.