Sunday, August 30, 2009

Rescue Me

A few months ago, my son and daughter-in-law became foster parents ... not for children, mind you, but for dachshunds. Yes, that's right, foster parents for doggies. They have had several furry friends pass through their lives, each one of them gaining a special place in their hearts and their home. Andy, their little dog, loves having new friends come, and he has gotten so attached to a couple of the fosters that he is a sad puppy when they move on to their "furever" homes.

Three weeks ago, Matt and Becca were going out of town for a weekend to celebrate Matt's birthday, and they asked if I would keep Andy while they were away. Andy always stays with me when they travel ... he loves his "Grandma Terrie," and he loves playing with my lab, Julie. This particular weekend, Matt and Becca had just gotten another foster dog named J.R. He had lived a hard three years, being born into a puppy mill and suffering a great deal of abuse. He was afraid of everything and everyone, which was understandable given his background.

When Matt asked if they could bring J.R. to me as well, I was less than excited about keeping a strange dog, especially one who had some significant trust issues. As I always do, I caved in and agreed to keep both of the hounds for the weekend.

Within a few short hours, J.R. decided that I was the greatest person on earth and deserved an exorbitant amount of love and affection from him, needed to have my every step mirrored by him, and most certainly would cherish having a fat little dog sleep cuddled next to me at night. In short, this dog worshipped and adored me.

By Saturday morning, his devotion to me was apparent as he gazed at me with his sad eyes that alluded to a much older spirit than his years would dictate. There was no playful puppy in this boy; he was sad ... sadder than any dog I've ever seen. I told myself over and over that the last thing I needed was another dog to care for; after all, I travel a great deal speaking to women's groups. And I have a big dog already. And dogs cost a lot. And he's fat and will need special food and to be walked every day. No playing Frisbee in the backyard to get his exercise like Julie does. Nope, I certainly don't need a dog, not to mention a high-maintenance one at that.

By the time Sunday arrived, I found myself calling Matt and Becca to ask what I needed to do to keep J.R. I simply couldn't bear the thought of him going anywhere where he might be abused again. And did I mention that he adores me? So when Matt and Becca came to pick up Andy, J.R. stayed with me and Julie. He found his "furever" home and completely stole my heart.

When I mentioned to Matt that I didn't understand why this dog had touched my heart the way he had, Matt wisely reminded me that I know what abuse feels like and thus felt J.R.'s pain and suffering. Smart kid, that son of mine. So now I'm walking two miles a day with Julie and J.R. Julie has the time of her life on the walking path, dragging me along like a fish on a line. J.R. manages to keep up with her and loves our walks each day. And me? Well, I've lost several pounds in the last three weeks, which is a bonus for me.

I am thankful that God in His infinite wisdom created animals for us as humans to love and care for. You see, I thought I was rescuing J.R., but it turns out that he's rescuing me right back.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Long Time, No Blog

I've discovered as I've aged that there are seasons in life ... at times, life blossoms like flowers in spring, grows like grass after summer showers, sheds unwanted items like leaves in the fall, or hibernates like bears on a cold winter's night.

Recently, I've experienced a new season in life by entering into the empty nest phase of parenting. My youngest child, my baby girl, moved into her own apartment, leaving my home to me and the dogs. It's been an adjustment after being a single parent for 14 years; the house is quiet, save the barking of the hounds. No music coming from the rooms upstairs, no televisions playing through the night, no one entering my room late at night to tell me about their day.

To say that I haven't had some sad days since my sons and daughter moved would be far from the truth. In fact, as they each made their way into the world to begin their adult lives, I've cried buckets as each one left the nest. But, it is the way God intended for things to be ... as parents, we raise our children to learn, to live, and to leave.

While I miss them, and the house feels lonely at times, I am learning to appreciate the good side to having the house to myself. I drink straight from the orange juice container without having to dirty a glass. I go for a walk every evening and meditate on the goodness of my Lord and the blessings He has graciously poured out upon me. I rarely turn on the television and have read several books instead.

I'm learning and I'm living ... by myself. And if I need someone to talk to other than the dogs, I've got a cell phone with friends and family as close as a call.