Disclaimer: All of these pictures are downloaded from google images. Sadly, since these are the animals of my childhood, I don't have any pictures of them to share.
Several years ago, before zimbio and buzzfeed quizzes were
all over Facebook, I took a Facebook quiz . . .what fictional character am I. I
was shocked to find out that I was Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West. So .
. .I read the book, then I saw the musical (which is NOT quite the same story
as the book) . . .twice. I saw it again last night and I have acknowledged that
it's true . . .I
am Elphaba. I relate to her.
We won't talk about how I was awkward, and gangly, and
funny-looking, and different. We won't talk about how few friends I had and we
won't talk about how much I was teased and picked on . . .you know who you are
. . .We won't talk about how fiercely I hold onto my beliefs, even when it gets
me in trouble. I promised not to talk about highly charged political or
religious topics, remember?
I will share how fiercely I care for animals,
and yes, they do talk. . . just not everyone can understand them. I am primarily
a dog person, but I don't limit myself. I've learned so much from so many
animals over the years. I fed a rescued manatee. I was hugged by a sea lion.
I've bottle fed a baby bear. Each one of them has left an indelible image in my
heart. But, I want to tell you what I've learned from the animals who have
shared with me.
Today is Part 1--the animals of my childhood. I
grew up with a lot of family pets, but these are the ones who reached into my
heart and never left.
Barney was my
first dog I knew. I know he was a cocker spaniel, but in my head, he's a
100-pound golden retriever. I think he was in my family even before I was. I
lived in a small town and our dogs ran around off-leash and outside the fence.
I still remember searching for him one morning and finding him lying in the dew
covered grass. He was old and must have had a stroke. I had never lifted
anything so heavy, but I carried him to the porch and stayed with him for what
seemed like forever as he took his last breaths. He
taught me about love and loss. He was the first time I knew about
death.
White Boots was
MY first dog. He adopted me one day. He refused to come into the house, but he
walked me to and from school. He defended me (and Barney) and almost lost his
life to the not-so-nice dog down the street who got out of his fence. He was a "spitz" . . .white and
fluffy, but brown spots. His little legs looked like white boots, so that's
what I named him. In my head, he was huge!!! I think he was my heart dog. When I ran away from home with a
nothing but a Hostess ding-dong in my pocket and decided the snow was too deep,
he stayed with me when I hid in the garage. We had to give him away less than a
year after he found me. I'm not sure I've ever gotten over it and he is why I
love the American Eskimo breed so much. He taught me that
you choose the ones you love and fight for them.
Winnie was our
shetland pony. She belonged first to my older brother, then my sister, then me.
She was having a foal and it wasn't going well. I never ran so fast in my life
the day I ran from the barn to the house screaming to call the vet to help. He
couldn't. Her foal was too big and she was too old. The lesson was painful. She
was too old and the sire was too big. She taught me that
life isn't always easy or fair, and it can be messy.
Togo was Tina's
puppy. Tina was my brother's Shih Tzu/Poodle mix. No one wanted Togo, the runt.
I used to sneak her into the house to sleep with me at night. Well . . .both of
them. They were supposed to sleep outside in the hay under the porch. But, to
me it was cold and dark and scary. She taught me that
sometimes you take risks for what you believe in. And she taught me that dogs are family and
need to live indoors with their pack.
Pat, the Fat Cat,
also adopted me. He was an orange tabby that sat on my lap one summer while I
read the entire Black Stallion series on the porch. He purred and never left my
side. I don't know where he came from, he just appeared and didn't leave. That
summer, I think the books and Pat were my only friends. He
taught me that it's OK to be comfortable, and happy, alone . . .I am in
Introvert, but more on that another day.
I only had D-O-G for
a few weeks. This cold little puppy "followed" me home in the warm
comfort of my coat on a wintry day. He was MINE, but I was leaving home soon,
and knew I couldn't keep him. I pretended I knew he had to find another home,
but I didn't really want to believe it. That's why I didn't give him a
"name." He taught me how important it
is to be honest with yourself. The pain of giving him up is
something I haven't ever quite gotten over. If I had been honest with myself
about how much I loved him, it might have fought for him. Or if I had really
believed that we couldn't keep him, giving him up might not have hurt as much.
I think that it's because of him that I foster. I don't want to see another
cold, wet, hungry dog on the street. I think that because of him, I take in
strays and network to get them adopted or into rescue . . .regardless of the
breed.
This is the end of Part 1 . . .In Part 2, I'll share the lessons of the animals I've known as an adult.