Rescuing

If I had all the money and resources in the world, one thing that I’d love to do is rescue….more! (I’ve already rescued my share of creatures). People and animals alike…I hate to see them suffer…I want to share my love. While fostering children is something my husband and I have discussed a ton, we are not currently in a position to be able to take that on, but oh how I yearn to. So in the meantime, I’ll have to settle for charity work and saving the occasional stray.

One such stray happened to cross my path this past February.
(Stopping to save random animals is something my family has an affinity for. My Dad’s side of the family taught this to us at an early age. Turtles, cats, dogs, even snakes… didn’t matter… if it looked like it needed help, we stopped. I’m sure animal control is cringing!)

I was driving in the car with the kids, dropping a friend off when a skinny but clean yellow lab mix caught my eye. Walking along the neighborhood streets, a few neighborhoods over from my own, she was scavenging in various yards looking for scraps. When I saw her collar I pulled over with the intention of calling her owners. She came to me but when I checked her collar I discovered that she was missing tags. She hopped into my car willingly. “Yay!”, my daughter exclaimed. “I needed a pay-it-forward activity for the day!” LOL

Glad I could make the kids happy… convincing Daddy of our plan was another story!

The plan was to hold on to her just long enough to find the owners. I took her to get scanned for a micro chip but there was none. We made and put up signs, posted on local community FB pages, contacted the city and county animal control services, SPCA, Craigslist…you name it! Not a single inquiry! We named her Pinkie.

But this story isn’t about how to adopt a dog… it’s about how to rescue one.

You see, when Pinkie came home with us, for the first couple of weeks she constantly followed so close behind me that I couldn’t get out of the gate without resorting to ridiculous physical contortions of my body. She would stick her head so close to the gate latch that to close it and leave her behind was a chore. Leave her in the house you say? Ha! It was just as ridiculous trying to get out of the house door and I feared her separation anxiety would lead to property destruction. Though fortunately, it never did.

So, every time I managed to get myself onto the other side of the gate and she would peer at me through the chained-link in angst, I would tell her calmly and gently,
“I’ll be back. I’m just going to pick up the kids / go to the store etc. It won’t be long. I’ll always come back.” Then I’d pet her through the fence and leave. I wouldn’t be gone for long.
And when I came home, she’d be waiting, jumping up and down in excitement. When I greeted her, I told her again, “You see, I came back…I’ll always come back.”

The first couple weeks passed and Pinkie stopped trying to nose her way out of the gate when I left. She seemed to understand that I would come back. But around the house, she never let up. She was glued to my side and stationed at my feet. I couldn’t take a shower without her hanging her head over the tub. And when she had her surgery, I felt terrible that if I left the computer to refill my coffee she’d jump up to follow. If I left the bed to use the bathroom, she’d jump down and be at my heels.

More weeks passed and every time I’d say, “Pinkie, I’m coming right back. You can stay here”, she’d follow behind me anyway. Until, finally, the day came when I woke-up and went to shower and she didn’t follow. Reluctant to turn around, I kept walking across the house, waiting to here the “thud” of her paws jumping down off the bed. While I showered I kept saying to myself, “She’ll be in here any minute now.” But….

When I returned to my room, she was still there, lying on my bed, waiting for me. Finally she understood. Finally, she believed me.

I’ll always come back.

You see, all it took was patience and gentle reassurance, that I’d be back. That’s it! I never pushed her back, held her down or tied her up. I never yelled at or scolded her. Further more, I never had any expectations that she would change, though I wished she would for her own peaceful sake. My words probably never meant a thing to her-she’s a dog. My tone and my actions though, probably spoke volumes. And then there was time. Time, was probably the most important factor of all. She just needed time.

Why is it that it’s so easy to accomplish this with dogs but our rules change when it comes to people. When it comes to rescuing humans, (we’re all in need of being rescued somehow) whatever hang-ups people come to us with, we want to change them. And we want to change them now! We find their clingy behaviors and habits annoying and we reject them and scold them and expect them to change with expediency.

But what if, instead, we gently reassured them? What if we loved them just the way they were and we told them that it was “okay”? What if we honored our promises and we always returned? What if we never yelled or scolded or ridiculed? What if we always embraced them instead of pushing them away or holding them at an arm’s distance? What if we let go of expectations that they would change and instead allowed them all the time that they needed?

Now, certainly some dangerous behaviors/habits don’t allow for such a Zen approach due to imminent safety concerns-but I’m not referring to those. I’m referring to the every-day annoying habits and insecurities that we, like Pinkie, have as a result of our past. Perhaps it’s not in the form of being pressed to ones side but in the form of nagging, of worry, of forced closeness.

I was once very much in need of being rescued and I thank the lucky stars that I found a man who despite my annoying behaviors was patient and waited. He never scolded or yelled at me but he guided me and most importantly, he kept coming home. And yet here I am…. struggling like everyone else with certain persons in my life and their habitual hang-ups. It’s not easy to always be patient and calm and understanding. In fact, it can be infuriatingly hard!

But I’m going to keep trying- because I’m a better person because someone rescued ME. And because a skinny little stray reminded me that it might just pay off – that gentle reassurance and patience takes less energy and is more effective than any form of confrontation and that love can cure even the loneliest of hearts.