*this is going to be a little heated. I warn you in advance. touchy subject for me.
There is an animal shelter up the road that is over capacity with dogs this week. And many of them are pit bulls. You know what that means and it breaks my heart. Not all are dangerous; not all are going to bite. Hell, I was attacked by a mighty basset hound but you don't see me campaigning to have every one of those hounds put down.
At the Dallas Animal Shelter, they are putting down 10 dogs an hour. 10. That number blew my mind. I wonder how many dogs were put down today at the shelter just up the road. That's 80 dogs a day - that's how many people are dropping these little friends off at the pounds because of this becasue of that - usually they claim can't afford them. Yet the money they spend each month on their data plans would be more than enough to cover the cost. We keep trying to find love, happiness, worth and fulfillment on our facebook accounts, on our iphones (both of which I have, I know), but how I wish I could put one of these dogs into everyone's homes and show them the love that these little friends can teach them. eish. I'm getting worked up. so much easier said than done. so much more complicated. i get that.
There was a show on the Animal Planet called Pitbulls and Parolees. I usually saw the end credits through my tears. It was about this woman in California who had been through quite a bit in her life, made some bad choices, yet was given a second chance, turned it all around and went on to open this sanctuary for abandoned pitbulls. She hired parolees right out of jail to keep the place going - often being the bridge from their lives as criminals to a chance of new ones, with a job. See the similarity? The most misunderstood breed of dog; the most misunderstand group of guys. Yeah, it doesn't always work. Some of the guys make it a week, don't show up one day and she gets a call that they are back in jail. Some of these dogs have been in dog-fighting rings so long that a few can't be rehabbed back into pets. But so many are. Saved, that is. You follow these guys as they start new lives and you see these dogs, so grateful for a chance and how well-behaved they are when they get into their new homes. If every show was this good, I just might turn the TV back on.
A few months ago I drove to a Dairy Queen on the Oklahoma line to pick up a dog that was being sent to our rescue. I can't take in fosters or give lots of cash, but I can take dogs around. Woodrow and I put the windows down and headed up on a nice Sunday afternoon to fetch Vito. Lucky for Mr. Vito, he was a pure bred italian greyhound and there was a rescue that had room to take him. As heartbreaking as it was, he was so lucky.
As I drove up there I asked for the story behind Vito - I am learning that it is best not to do that. He was 12 years old, and his owner had had him since he was a puppy. He was little man, her Woodrow - if you will, and since these creatures can live to be 18 years old, they were suppose to have a few more happy years together. That was until Vito's mom lost her job about a year back, and things went from bad to worse real quick. I don't know the details and they aren't important, but she was having to give Vito up because she was being evicted from her place and with nowhere to go, was going to be homeless. And if she was lucky enough to find room in a shelter, well, they don't allow dogs, etc.
Hearing that story, I had expected to pick up a starved, mangly dog with nothing but a collar. I didn't. I drove up to that Dairy Queen (ordered a blizzard for me and jr burger for Woodrow), and the sweetest little angel was put in my arms. And all of his stuff. So much that it filled the backseat and my trunk. A very nice crate, a soft bed, special dog bowls that were elevated off the floor in a stand (promotes better digestion), many blankets, collars, sweaters, etc. Vito, himself was wrapped up on that cold day in a full fleece jumper. Long story short, this was one loved, and well cared for dog. His mama had seen much better days and had been able to make a nice life for them. And then something happened and everything, even him, was taken from her. You could see this dog knew. He wouldn't even lift his head up.
I can't imagine someone coming knocking on my door on the last day I would have one and take my dog from me. He is all I have many days and without that little ridiculous creature, no matter the love and support I have around me, I would be truly alone. And these are dogs. Can you imagine being in such a situation where you couldn't provide for your kids? Where you couldn't feed them? Yeah, it's easy to judge and ask what mama did to get in such a situation but while we stop and get all judgy, her kids are hungry. Let's close our mouths and offer them some help.
You know, there really isn't much room between this lady, or anyone in that situation and I. Or you. Yeah, I've got degrees - but not the health to use them to sustain myself. If it weren't for an AMAZINGLY supportive family, where would I be? Even though I have disability, it certainly wouldn't be enough to cover rent and electricity let alone food, medicine, etc. Could I ever be in her shoes? Yeah. Real quick. We all could. In the blink of an eye.
My point is this. Those who have fallen on hard times (far, far harder than mine), those who are in a shelter or at the county hospital asking for medicine for their kids, really aren't that far from those of us who haven't been there. yet. that is the word. yet.
I thought I was set. I worked hard. I did what I was suppose to. I was so not like 'them.' As if we have any idea who they really are. These are good people, too. These are veterans. These are single moms. Mistakes have often been made but we sure have had some ourselves. We don't know their stories and yes, the system does get used and abused, but since when did these people lose all of our respect? When did we forget their humanity, their suffering? When will we remember? I guess it will be when we are there ourselves.
No comments:
Post a Comment