be love
“Be love, bring love, give love, sing love even to your enemies.” – Jack Johnson
Last year, the day after Halloween, in the midst of a messy, dusty bathroom remodel and a friend coming to stay with us for a few days, I decided it was the perfect time to adopt another dog! Something had gotten into me, and it may have had something to do with my oldest going to college, but who can say? (I can, it definitely had something to do with it).
In my free time, I would peruse websites looking for animals in need of a home. I came upon a sweet small white chihuahua/rat terrier/Dachshund looking mix who had recently had a litter of pups. They called her Mama Pumpkin. She had one brown spot over her eye which my brother said reminded him of The Phantom of the Opera.
My husband and I had been chatting about adopting a small dog to accompany our 13-year-old Great Pyrenees mix, Poppy, and our 6-year-old, cat, Charlie so it wasn’t totally out of the blue.
When I walked up to the fence to meet her at the shelter that Saturday morning, I saw the vacant look in her eyes as her last puppy to be adopted jumped all over the enclosure. She seemed to be saying please get this puppy off of me, I’m exhausted, I’d like wine. I said back with my eyes, I understand, Mama, I’ve got chablis.
When it was time for me to meet her, I sat on the ground, and she crawled up onto my lap. For close to three minutes, she sat shaking and then eventually fell asleep while I fell in love with her on the spot.
When I came back to the shelter a few hours later with my family in tow, including Poppy, they told me she had tested positive for heartworm. That’s a whole other story that I’ve referenced in another post and one that involved limited activity, injections, a whole lot of worry, money, and snuggling. (They will retest her in a few more months to make sure she is in the clear.)
We brought her home from the shelter the next day, after taking our visiting friend to the beach and before grocery shopping and preparing to have friends over for a family room concert. Maybe, not the best timing.
With the exception of a few accidents (my fault), barking at everyone who is not in our immediate family, eating some of my shoes, and running full speed down the street yesterday, she is an absolute dream. She doesn’t shake any more, and she smiles. She loves to lay outside basking in the warmth of the sun and chase lizards. She also loves to play fetch with her squeaky stuffed bee and lays on the top of the couch like a cat.
When she does something annoying, I think of her face at the shelter. I think of what she endured–the neglect and having a litter of puppies in less-than-ideal conditions. I remind myself she’s not trying to be trouble or a pain in the ass; she’s traumatized and scared.
When people piss me off these days, I try to remember this. I think of Pumpkin’s sad eyes at the shelter. And I think of how she’s changed the last few months with love and attention. I think, what have the people who are careless or worse, cruel, been through? What kind of hardship have they endured to be the way they are?
Can I show them kindness? What would they be like if they had had the good fortune of having had their needs met? Of being cared for and loved and shown respect and dignity?
Can I (pun intended) throw them a bone? Can I look deeper, at what’s happening underneath the behavior? Can I show up and be a force of love even when there is pee on my carpet? Be love, bring love, give love, sing love.