I read a comment on the website Addicting Info, referring to a horrible case of animal abuse, that really spoke to me. "While some forms of patriotism come cheap, like worshiping a flag or knee-jerk jingoistic statements about “God and Guns”- there is another type of patriotism which costs something. It is the patriotism of making a personal commitment to care and support the people, animals and environment of your place in the world." Wow. Read that again.
I understand I'm preaching to the choir here. I don't personally know abusive people. Thank you, God. Abuse occurs when something or someone is considered "less than" the abuser. The people I know and love have respect for others and the planet. The news is full of awful stories about horrible people. This post isn't going to be one of those. Rather, I want to talk about the heroes - the rescuers and the rescued.
Don't get me wrong, I think responsible breeders are vital. People will always want specific breeds. We have purebred Bullmastiffs and Ragdoll cats. But there are so many abandoned animals with love to give. If you want a certain breed, check with that breed's rescue first. If you are one of the lucky ones who've been blessed with a rescue, you may find that you're the one who gets rescued.
I remember a friend of my daughter who had Gabe, the human/dog, tell me that a rescue will always remember that you saved them. Gabe was a gorgeous white Shepherd mix. He was scheduled to be put down and was rescued in the nick of time by this young person. I have never known a dog quite like Gabe. He could look into your soul. I can't explain what it was about Gabe exactly. You just had a sense that he knew how to control himself and also that he would die for you.
Gabe lived with us for a time, when we had the Frenchies. Now, we tried to protect the Frenchies from themselves because they were tiny but fearless and thought they ruled the world. So, one night, Missy, the pistol of the pack, went running into the darkened room where Gabe was sleeping. I heard a sound unlike any other and was frozen in place. The next thing I saw was a little black flash, running as fast as her little legs could go, out of the room and across the house. No blood. Whew. Checking on Gabe, his eyes were triangles. He looked at me and it was like I could read his thoughts, "You do realize I could have killed that thing, but I didn't because you love it and I love you." Gabe was total control.
I remember going with a friend to the animal shelter one day. Her family had recently lost their beloved Bassett Hound and they were ready to open their hearts to another pet. They wanted a Lab mix. We found the most adorable yellow Lab puppy sitting all by herself in a big kennel. My friend and I had no idea that you have to grab a card from the kennel and take it to the front desk. When we went back to get it, the card was gone - apparently to someone who was looking for "several" dogs that day! (Alarm bells went off.) However, my friend and I together could be an unstoppable force. Long story short, Chloe went home with my friend that day and is living the life of a princess.
I know a woman who has devoted her time to feral cat rescue. She spends hours upon hours rescuing ferals who have been displaced by construction or are in neighborhoods where they're unwanted. She is a true hero.
Over the years, we've acquired pets through various means, but our grown kids definitely rescue. Our son's first one was Sarah, a Black Lab mix. She was smart and very loving. Our daughter went onto a rescue site to find an "unadoptable." There she saw Lady London, a Pit/Basenji mix who had been found running the streets. She had a litter of puppies who quickly found homes, but nobody picked Lady. Good for her, because she is now living like a queen! Lady, or Zuzu or Ladybug - all of her pet names - adores my daughter and vice versa.
In my life, it's been the rescues who've rescued me. I've written about our first rescue - the Border Collie puppy frat guys were giving beer and using as a football. Andy and I just took her. She was completely devoted to Andy, and may have saved our lives. We were young and carefree and never locked a door or closed a curtain. One night, Two's ferocious barking alerted us to a peeping tom outside, looking into a window. We will never forget that brave little dog.
I've already written about Poco, the rescued mare. She was another sweet soul who knew she had been saved. You could tell it in her eyes, which were soft and spoke for her. She arrived at a time in my life when I thought that life was over. She gave me something to live for.
Of all my cats, Fancy, the feral, is the one who talks to me all day, sits with me at night and connects with me on a deeper level. He remembers his former life. I know it.
I am constantly amazed at the true heroes who go above and beyond to help an animal in need. From the fireman/woman who goes back inside to rescue somebody's beloved pet to the people who provide shelters in the winter for feral cats. When I see someone stop and help a turtle cross a busy street or stop traffic to let a mother duck and her ducklings go by safely, I want to cheer.
You are a bigger person when you help the smallest creatures.
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| Pink is my color... |
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