I should preface this post with the fact I cry. Hallmark commercials, sappy movies, dog smiles all bring tears to my eyes. I believe this came mostly from taking and teaching yoga for many years. Once in tune with the energy all around us, it's easy to be moved by emotions. Today is a two-cry already, but both for such good sakes I need to share.
This morning husband, pup, and me piled in the mini (cooper) and drove to the shelter to meet Sierra and see if we could foster her with our own Denali. Both Labradors, both females, it felt like a good fit. Driving to the shelter on a day it is normally closed I expected to find only one person to meet me. Rather, I see ten to twelve volunteers and other staff there working to walk all the dogs before noon, when the nearby traffic from the Chiefs Game would preclude further effort. On a Sunday morning it was so pleasant a surprise to see many, many walking feet and paws working together for a better day.
Taking our pup to meet Sierra didn't go as well as we'd have liked, but that was the point of this meet-and-sniff, to see if the two pups would mesh or not. While they had moments of play together, our dog was indifferent if not indignant to little Sierra. On the converse, Sierra was more a puppy than I'd seen previous and has caused us to question whether she's a pup we can give enough attention and time to. We walked her back to the shelter aware her energy level may be sheer enthusiasm for the walk and canine cajoling, or may be more a puppy-sense that will wear our little girl's patience thin. Cry #1.
Taking on a dog, even as a foster, is a serious decision and we need to know we'll be the best foster parents possible. We all decided to think on it for a day, since I'll be returning there tomorrow. Driving away brought the same emotions I felt my first day of volunteering; I can't be leaving them there, I want to take them all home, I can't possibly take them all home, today I can't even take one. But I'm trying to do what is best, what is right, and what is realistic. To quote Scarlett, "...tomorrow is another day" so we'll see what the dawn brings.
Coming home I busied myself with assorted tasks to keep my mind from holding the sorrow I saw in Sierra's eyes as I'd returned her to the kennel. Hubby hugged me and I sobbed. What good does it do to sob so I stopped. I made sugared pecans for the new neighbors one floor up, and for the new widower a block over. I made soup enough to feed the Walton's and now need to find friends to parlay the portions out to. We made waffles for a good friend and shared our last summer watermelon slices. Then a neighbor called to ask if now was good to drop off some more donations. Sure, now is as good a time as any. *sigh*
Answering the door, looking at the neighbor with a plastic bin at his feet, I allowed my dismay to dissipate taking in everything this bin held. From an email sent yesterday to all my neighbors to pre-empt our usual holiday giving with what the shelter would need and a plan to get it, today I was already receiving a long list of much needed supplies, the kind that's so necessary but not as fun as the normal givings. Peroxide, spray bottles, gauze, 409, trash bags, sandwich bags, a dustpan you don't have to bend over to use, and puppy biscuits. This, and a promise that the bin will be refilled as often as I bring it back to the neighbor and his wife and their own shelter pup, Buddy. Hug, and cry #2.
On this journey, I've reached a piece of road where looking back no longer shows me where I started, and I've nearly forgotten that place. Looking forward and I'm not sure what lies that way either, but know going forward is the only direction I'll take. I'm definitely going to cry lots and lots more, but that's ok. I cry, it's me. Sad cries come with reasons, and happy cries do too.
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