Saturday, December 8, 2012

The Lost Dog

Hello My Friends;

  I'd like to tell you about today's activities....

  Today I took part in an adoption day for the rescue organization I've mentioned before.  It was quiet, but we got some great people in to see the dogs and maybe find that forever friend they've been missing.
  Afterward, many of us went on a road trip to a nearby town in search of a missing dog.  This poor thing: 17 years old, a cancer survivor twice, deaf, nearly blind, unsteady on its feet.... and somehow now lost.
  The owners, a man and woman, have searched and searched, hoping against hope.  The temperatures sinking below freezing, the age and condition of their sweet friend..... the dog has been missing since Tuesday.  I was hoping I'd find their dog for them, praying I wouldn't as I searched under decks, in bushes, ditches, and along the water's edge.  
  There's no way to not feel for folks who have had a friend share their every day for 17 years, tears controlled only through a force of will.  Each confided to me separately that they believe the dog has died but they search for a live dog because each believes the other would be overly grief-struck.  I drove home tired, cold, and sad.  We didn't find the dog.  So, perhaps that means we can still hope.  

  When I got home I hugged my Gracie, once she was done dancing around my feet.    Fuzzy friends..... how they manage to get into our hearts, and how in the world could we possibly live without them?  I dread the day I will one day have to say goodbye to my friend, .  The best I can do, I guess, is make sure she knows she is loved and appreciated every day I have her.
  Isn't it incredible the wonderful lessons we learn from such "dumb" critters?


Anonymous said...

My family had a dog almost from the time I was in first grade. Then when I moved out on my own, I didn't have one around for many years, and didn't realize how much I missed a mutt around the house. "My" first dog showed up in '86, a tossed-out-of-the-car puppy, rescued by a 10 year old fried of my sister, so Bear came home with me. He was around 12 years, then cancer got him. I lasted less than a year before I rescued Bullwinkle from the shelter, and that 6-week old ball of fur stuck around another 12 years - a degenerative bone disease took him, just over a year ago. I don't know if I'll get another dog of my own, but I do support the local rescues and shelters. It's good there are big hearted people like you to help them out, too!
Peace <3

randy said...

Hi Jay;
Like you, I've had a dogs. My first dog I got for my 8th birthday, coming at a time when the parents had little money for gifts, she was the best present I've ever had.
I've only recently understood that special place dogs have in our hearts has more to do with them rescuing us than we rescuing them.
I've heard wonderful story after wonderful story from people who, like you, shared their homes, lives, and hearts with these four legged fuzzy friends. Stories that start with joy and laughter, end in smiling tears as they tell me the end, and yet all seem to have such grace, such love. Like you, some have told me they don't know if they will ever have another - as they wistfully watch a puppy pounce on its own shadow or an adult dog lean in for a rib scratch. They all want that love and happiness, but the pain of the ending is rough. The funny thing, I don't think they realize that even that ending was full of love, acceptance, and joi-de-vive that is a dog even on its last moments.
They teach us so much.
Thanks for sharing your story a bit.