Cody is always the first dog I walk in the morning because I know my coffee won’t spill while I hold the leash. Despite being cooped up in the shelter for over 6 months, he prefers to stroll slowly. He is an older sort of yellow-blond Siberian mix with dark eyes and a bit of a temper. It takes time for him to trust a person and he doesn’t seem to like any other dogs at all. I’ve managed to befriend him because I have been stopping by the shelter a few mornings a week for over a month now to walk the dogs.
The shelter opens late most days so it is usually just me and another volunteer there. We feed, walk, play and clean up after whoever they tell us to. There is always a running to-do (or to-don’t) list to introduce us to the new arrivals:
No food for Baxter till staff arrives-food aggressive.
Don’t try to walk Lola-too jumpy.
Oreo is afraid of other dogs-no play yard…and so on.
And then there are the regulars we already know all about, like Cody. He is an unlikely candidate for adoption and no one has claimed him despite the collar on his neck when he was found. With a special needs list as long as my arm there has been no second chance for him yet. His last hope is the waiting list at a senior dog sanctuary and the manager here is committed to make sure he gets there. When the shelter is full, she takes him home till there is space again. It does not take long before this new volunteer is inspired by her example and does the same for several of the more friendly regulars.
I can tell it is wearing thin on Matt…the parade of lost souls arriving one night at a time. He believes it is how I am dealing with my kids growing up. With Lily in college and Max in his own place he figures I am looking for someone else to take care of to feel whole again. He may be partially right but he’d never understand the other part to it. These animals do far more to comfort me than I do for them. He figures we’ll be adopting each one and he is wrong each time. These are the most adoptable ones; they never stay homeless long once they get a chance to show their stuff.
Step by step, they are reinvigorated in stages; a few more walks, a short stay here and with other volunteers, and then ultimately become their true selves with a new family. The updates from the new families always come back so very different from the list at the shelter;
Just look how Baxter shares his food bowl with his dog sister Candy.
Here is a photo of our 8-year-old walking Lola on the leash; she is so gentle with him.
Oreo is the official welcome “waggin” at our local dog park, greeting each entrant with a heartfelt play bow.
These animals illustrate for me what I should have already known; who you are at the lowest point in your life, whether it be behind bars in a shelter or knee-deep in life changes and counseling, is not who you will always be. I can’t tell this to Matt because some of what he has put me through in the name of his own happiness has translated into that low point in my life. He already wears all the blame and is paying full price.
He doesn’t need any more guilt and it won’t make me feel any better anyway. I am not proud of how I handled his infidelity. Together, we’ve been working past it. Alone, I have to figure out who that person was and why she put up with it for so long and allowed it to slam full force into the entire family.
Every dog at the shelter has been betrayed on some level…given up casually by the only family they have ever known, left unclaimed with no id tags, abused or worse. For most we never know the whole story. The dogs certainly don’t dwell on it. As far as they know the shelter is not a place of transition, it is their new reality. How they handle it, how much they allow themselves to trust and recover directly impacts whether or not they get a second chance. Many seem to feel it is entirely up to them and make the changes accordingly. They don’t waste time placing blame.
This is a lesson I need to learn and relearn often. For a shelter dog fighting the leash means they’ll get fewer walks. For me, falling back on pity, blame and anger will mean more loneliness and regret. I have always wanted to be a person who volunteers and “gives back.” The shelter work lets me be that person, a new person. The payback is proof that I can change. I change not because of anything that has happened or been done to me but simply because it is time to become whoever it is I have been all along.
Thanks for stopping by today. I’ll be back next Tuesday to keep you posted on my story with a fresh journal entry. Click here to catch up on any entries you have missed so far or here to learn more about me.