As this is a daily writing prompt and not an assignment, I shall start off changing the word authority for passion.
Somewhere, I have two certificates( in an old box, collecting dust). I worked hard for : Advanced Canine and Feline Nutrition and Animal Assisted Therapy…and I shall keep on learning about dogs, about anything and everything. I’m wired with a curious mind.
So, if you have dogs and stand still long enough, the chances I will feel the urge to chat with you about them. It is the emotional health of dogs and all animals, really that concern me the most…but I’m not sure everyone is aware, so I’ll just listen for clues
There are many dog-related classes you can attend, experts to guide you with this and that.. but I have yet to come across anyone talking about the animal’s mental health, their feelings. You may mock, but they are sentient beings.
This man has a lot to answer for…but he did utilise the phrase ‘ Be Prepared’….. Someone else, I cannot pinpoint whom, chose ‘ Be ready’ a variant of the idea, somehow sounds, to me more modern. But there are times in your life you do need to be prepared. A shock factor on top of anything else only adds to the weight of grief.
I’m talking to you today about my old dog Patches. My sole/soul companion. I’m his 4th mom and he has sometimes repaid me with agression. A time I ended up in hospital being stitched back together, when his frustration had nowhere to go..but towards the hand that feeds him.
Sure I threatened him with all manner of alternative living arrangements, but both he and I knew it was just talk. It was never going to happen.
But he’s more frail now. Eleven years old is not always considered a ‘ good age’. But it’s the only data I have about him. He could be older, for sure. He’s feisty when he wants to be. He can climb the stairs ( albeit slowly) and get onto the bed ( with the help of a step-up) He knows what he wants and when he wants it. But I love that about him. His spirit. Eons ago I cared for kids, rose through the ranks and became really good at it. I have/had the same sentiment, I relished my charges being ‘ spirited’. Harder work, but the product ended up a treat!
So here we are. I’ve arranged to take Patches down to Cornwall for what may be his last beach holiday. A very dear and lovely friend has given up many days of a rent free Airbnb break, to accommodate us.I thank you Trish, soo much. Your Shepherds Hut ‘ The Sheppy’, is fabulous! ( Dear readers, should you want somewhere easy going to stay during a trip to Cornwall, get in touch and I’ll give you the details)
I’ve researched mobile vets for euthanasia at home and will use a close by pet cremation services for his final send off.
I had no help or support when I lost my Tony( which happened really fast) and the pain was unbelievable. I used prescribed drugs to get through the loss of Joe and Mia. This time I will have simply preparation when the time comes to lose my companion. So, being prepared..being ready, I can only hope will support my fragile mental state when I lose my ‘ best boy’….
When he came to live with me Tony was a bag of bones. Battered and bruised, his bare pink skin without fur showed the extent of a life on the street. The years had taken their toll. He was exhausted and losing the will to live.
A large bandage around his neck protected him against further damage. The maggots had made a gaping hole.
It took a while but his misty eyes began to clear. His fur started to grow back. Those bones now had flesh on them. What a star!
And then it happened, someone walked too close to his gate and he barked. Just the once. A beautiful moment.
If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?
On socials I go by Ella, which is a pretty name I think. Can’t remember the moment I chose it…Just happened, I reckon.
But today I want to tell you how one of my dogs got his name.
Soooo, I’m living and working in Southern India, with a well-paid job and a super lifestyle…and then it all goes to hell in a handcart when I fall in love with a four-legged broken soul, called Tony.
I leave the job and he and I move out of my lux accommodation into a sweet little house in a village called Palavakkam. There’s no AC with generator back-up, just ceiling fans….the power cuts are notorious. But that’s another story. In fact there are lots of other stories.
Without paid employment, my once a week helping the Blue Cross of India stint became full time. Their ABC ( Animal Birth Control) programme was quite something.
The job entailed daily visiting a chosen area to collect up to twenty street dogs ( I think, can’t remember exactly how many, twenty plus, maybe) They would be taken back to the centre. Boys and girls separated, given a health check, a rabies shot and then the op) The boys recovered faster, but when they were all fit we took them back to exactly where we had found them, on another day. They had one ear clipped( just a little) so they could be identified on the street as having had the procedure.
This helped to keep the population of street dogs down. I was informed once upon a time they would be thrown live down wells. Today around the world horrible methods are still used.
One night after work the van dropped me at the end of my road and I walked to my house in tears. Nothing unusual there, the daily stress and distress needed to manifest somehow. It broke my heart to see so many animals in such bad shape, on a daily basis.
Dusk was falling but ahead of me I could see a tiny pup hanging out with a group of grown dogs. His coat was a mess and probably didn’t feel great but his spirit was alive and kicking.
I picked him up and asked around if anyone knew where he came from, if by any chance he did at all. A lady told me he had been ‘ thrown over the wall, by that house there’. To make sure I was doing everything correctly as far as the charity and my conscience were concerned I approached the gates of the property, to ask about the ownership of the pup- happily snoozing on my arms.
In no uncertain terms I was assured his welfare was not their concern.
I took him home ( lovely story to be told here, another day) My ‘big dog’ Tony took it on the chin and allowed the pup to enter.
Plan A was to take Pup to the Blue Cross centre to be cared for and hopefully rehomed. But if you know me you’ll know I wasn’t going to be able to part with him easily.
My ex workmate and friend Mary often came to visit. The pup would tug at the edges of her sari. She was kind, we laughed, he was naughty. But it was okay.
So, I had this dilemma. What to do about Pup?
I had tentative plans about returning to the UK. My work visa would run out eventually and although I know it could have ‘ been arranged ‘ ( many things can be arranged in India- no disrespect meant to the country or government workers, I hasten to add!) I didn’t really want to put anyone in that position, to do me that favour. A pity really, under different circumstances I would have been happy to stay there.
Sister Mary, Mary ( a native of Bangalore) had been a co-worker, an amazing loyal friend with a sense of humour I adored. She became everything to me and still is..good friend, sister, mother, daughter, everything.
When she knew I was troubled about the future of Pup, she said she would take him as her own. A visit was arranged and off we went to meet her family. It was then I thought, yes, she a devout catholic was Mary ….He would be Joseph..Joe.
Pup had a fabulous time, running around, connecting with everyone and being adorable….and then ..he ran to me, looked me straight in the face and said ‘ that was great, can we go home now?’! Joe was going nowhere without me.
I brought him to the UK, with Tony, in October 2005 and he lived a long and happy life.
After thought ..
Dr. Chinny who ran the Blue Cross of India in Chennai offered me a gig in the back end of beyond helping street dogs. I turned it down as I believed my family at some stage may need me and I couldn’t get back to the UK quickly. They never did….
I sometimes find the word ‘ sacrifice’ smacks of martyrdom in today’s world….and I’m not sure what to replace it with….forfeit? forego?
‘ Gave up’. Maybe that works a bit better? It’s still not perfect!
Once upon a time I had a well paid job overseas, a comfortable lifestyle and savings….and then I didn’t, because a Street Dog came into my life and changed everything. My Tony and the foster puppy Joe (who stayed forever) became my focus. My world.
It cost me everything, but I wouldn’t change a thing. That’s not totally true. I do not regret for one second bringing them back to the UK…but I wish I had done things differently.
In the end the young pup stayed by my side for 15 years, with unconditional love and a continuity in my life I knew neither before or since.
It depends whom I’m talking to, where and when. If they are into animals and especially dogs we are by definition on the same page. If the welfare of animals, their rights and needs is something they are interested in, then we’re pretty much in the same paragraph, if not sentence.
A shared interest is always nice. Makes for an easy-going time. But it doesn’t have to be so. I love listening to a person with a passion for something. They way they light up and become animated, is great. So many years ago now I used to work along side a lad who loved rock climbing. Personally I would rather stick pins in my eyes, than try it…but to hear him chat on about his lastest adventure was quite something. Even the actions of holding on with his fingertips, he’d show me. That conversation must have made an impact, for me to remember it so vividly. A similar moment, but much more recently was a young talented designer/builder. Usually the quietest of young men, he came to life as he told me about his latest project. His enthusiasm was infectious and the positive vibe he excuded lifted my spirits.
I don’t enjoy being trapped in a room/area with lots of people. ( Weirdly it’s what I dream about the most, but usually set in a big building) as I struggle with small talk. Direct personal questions, horrible! On the other hand brief light-hearted banter with strangers I find enjoyable. Those seconds out of your day when you can share a mutual laugh or smile about something, as you cross paths.
Of course with old friends you don’t have to talk at all, if that suits the mood of the moment. Often sharing views on current affairs/ politics, health, nutrition, pollution, world leaders, the lack of clean water for all,for example. That long list of topics you could chat together about into the night. Or not.
So to directly answer the Prompt today I’d say dogs, dogs and more dogs….but if folk want to tell me about their families, their concerns, hopes, skills, opinions or dreams for the future, I’m all ears!
P.S. How does the picture I have posted today have anything to do with what I’ve written about? It doesn’t, but it’s pretty, eh?
I just made the big mistake of deciding to have a ‘quick game’ on my tablet before I came to WordPress. Of course, it wasn’t a quick game, was it? At least 40 minutes passed before I got here and read coincidentally our DP today is about having fun. It’s true, I was having fun. Or was I? Maybe just consumed by the black hole which has become our devices. Not much exercise to be had here, other than our fingers and hopefully some grey matter.
Picture this…..It’s a warm, bright sunny day. In a garden somewhere the grass is as green as it could possibly be. The flower beds full of colour. In the middle is a paddling pool. A hose runs with fresh and probably chilly water. A dog runs in and out of the small children as they shriek with glee. The one with the hose being IT for the moment. They are in a safe space and free to scream and shout, to their little hearts content. This is kids having fun. Their cognitive creativity peaks around 6 years old. Motor skills, imagination, problem solving and balance ease up at this age and they begin to mimic the ‘grown ups’ around them. If they are not lucky this can have quite a detrimental effect, I think to myself.
Research suggests that adults lose their sense of fun in their early 40’s. Saying that around 42 years of age, things change somewhat. I wonder if that goes for 40 somethings who have a passion? Surfing, hand gliding or skiing, for example. Surely it would still be fun to do those things at any age, as long as you are fit enough to do so?
These days having fun for me is maybe having lunch out and/or window shopping with a friend, simple things in life. Again not too much exercise going on there, though.
I get to have some fun the three times a day I go out with my boy. I’m not a fair weather dog walker. We’ll go out in whatever. I’m happy to see him having a good time, running like the wind-ish, eating sun-dried sheep’s poo or swimming in the streams. He’s a bit of a bruiser and he has trained me well. He’s taught me how he likes things done and when. I’d say that the walking is exercise and we have fun. So, there it is WP, I’ve answered today’s question.
IN THE BOOMER PIGEON HOLE? 