Friday, July 02, 2010

Happy the mutt

When I was a little girl, my weekends were spent with my mother. Being a hard working super mom, this was our special bonding time. She would take me to the zoo where we would visit the petting zoo and then share a sprinkled waffle cone. We would visit museums, where I would stand and watch all the trains go by on the tracks at the transportation museum. And every once in a while, she would take me to the Humane Society to visit all the cats, dogs, and horses.

I loved going to the shelter. For an hour or two, I got to pet and spend time with all of the animals. Growing up I was never allowed to have pets with fur (stupid finches). So I loved being able to spend time interacting with them, even though every visit left me teary eyed and begging for a puppy.

On one visit when I was about 8 I met the most wonderful dog in the world. His name was Happy, he was a mutt and from what I can recall he was black & tan and about 50 lbs. I sat the entire time petting him through the bars of the kennel and when my mom tried to take me away to see the other animals (she could see I was getting very attached), I refused to go. I felt this connection, this bond, and I pleaded with my mother to let me adopt him. I will walk him, feed him, do all my chores, get good grades - pretty please!Of course she said no and she practically had to pry my white knuckles from the metal bars of Happy's kennel. Later that week at a family gathering my mom loved telling the story about how I fell in love with Happy. How he was not the cutest or cleanest and he was in fact the ugliest and stinkiest dog in the whole shelter. I guess she felt a sense of pride that her daughter had depth.

But what she did not know and I did not know either was that Happy was my first rescue dog. I was not able to take him home to be my pet but he unlocked this piece of my heart that would develop over time. Rescue dogs choose you as much as you choose them. There's an instant connection when you meet your rescue dog. It goes further than pretty fur or a sparkling mug. It is an instant bond, and you know... when you know.

Why start a blog?

I never thought I would ever start a blog. For one, I don't really have a lot of free time to put my thoughts on paper. And second, I would be the first to tell you that my thoughts are probably not that interesting to other people.

Most of you reading this get enough of my thoughts on Facebook, email forwards, and lengthy discussions over one too many glasses of wine. You get it - I love animals. Dogs in particular. And there are puppy mills, dogs left out in the cold, overpopulation in shelters, etc...etc...etc...

So why this blog? Why now? Logical next step maybe? Overzealous attempt to educate the whole world about animal welfare and end the homeless populations of animals? I am not that naive. NO I started this blog because I for some time now, I have had the great pleasure of meeting many canines and I always said that one day I was going to write a book and share their stories with you all. Why? Well for one, I think they matter. And they are good stories. Stories that bring a smile to your face and maybe a tear to your eye. And years down the road I want to remember them. All of them.

It may sound silly but my experience with dogs has made me a better person. A less selfish person, a kinder person, and more patient. They have taught me lessons and have been supportive of me. Any one who has a family pet can relate to this I am sure.

And so today as I was walking a few of them down at the kennels where we board the dogs in our rescue I decided - I am going to start a blog. Not for me but for them. I know this blog may not be groundbreaking, but maybe someone can learn something new about rescue dogs. Maybe one will get adopted by someone reading this blog. Or maybe I will just have a journal that I can read when I am old and grey, over a glass of wine with a warm puppy at my foot.