Ludo's Legacy Fundraiser October/November 2012

Ludo's Legacy Fundraiser

The Leaves Aren't All That's Golden

It's been far too long since I've blogged. I have aspired to put my thoughts and experiences into words, but all too often the experiences, alone, fill every minute of every day, and then some. I've had to rely upon Facebook posts and photographs to convey to all of you my passionate quest for change. But today - TODAY - I bore witness to rescue MAGIC, and it behooves me to give this magic to the world.

Every moment in a life matters, and each little moment is filled with choices. Not one choice, but fathomless choices which we weave together in living a life full of its own twists and turns. I suppose I've been particularly sensitive to this phenomenon ever since I was a child. In one moment everything in my family's life changed. In a moment my father went from living a life of seemingly perfect health to one where life was fought for by him and by all of us. Those fighting moments strung themselves together into years, and so very many choices we had to make. We experienced the frailty of life, and we experienced fear; we experienced sacrifice, perseverance, and repercussions. We fought with attachment. I do not take my place in this life lightly. The significance of a moment, and my place in that moment are not lost on me.

Today's moment, though, was magical. It was to be a day spent mostly with my son, as we drove an hour into Asheville to drop a couple dogs off to be spaded...oh, wait, I mean spayed. Depends where you live, how you say it, it seems. I planned to take him to the North Carolina Arboretum on this fine autumn day. The sun was certainly shining, and sweaters were set aside. The arboretum had an 'After the Dinosaurs' exhibit running, and he more than earned a break away from the rescue routine which makes up not just my life, but his. I hadn't really charged the cell phone, and I even considered turning it off, but I hate to do that. It seems so final, turning it off, when I feel a sense of moral obligation to be available in case of some emergency. Lately those emergencies have included consultations which have sent three animals to the emergency vet, and I have a grandpa in the hospital, so it stayed on.

In a moment life shifted. I was called upon by a rescue associate to offer what I could for a dog that had been found in Jackson County, the county in which I reside. Yes, here we go again. A dog. There are probably quite a few folk who read that and want to cast this aside. But here's the thing. It isn't just a dog. There are people too. There is the woman who had found the dog and didn't know what to do. There are the staff at my county's animal shelter who are living the reality of what a full county shelter means - euthanasia, if we can't give them room, give them empty runs. There is the rescue associate who could offer a place for the dog after following a protocol that meant it needed a place for 3 days. There is my son trying to do a scavenger hunt among the gardens at the arboretum while I'm sitting on a bench with a cell phone in my ear.

The problem is that there wasn't a place for the dog to go to be held. It wasn't the Good Samaritan's fault. She wanted to help, but the law of the landlord definitely got in the way with this one. I wanted to help, but there was no room at the inn, plus I was hours and hours away from being able to physically help, and we had three - THREE - hours to find a solution, if we wanted to keep the dog out of the shelter. Now, I don't want anyone to think that we wanted to keep the dog out of the shelter because we are hate mongers who think shelter staff are the scum of the earth. Indeed, no. The staff of our county shelters are partners in rescue, and they are human, and under all that I do with the animals, I will never forget how hard their job is and how valuable they have been to so many successes I've been blessed to experience. We simply wanted the best outcome possible!

Witness the magic. I have been blabbing away on the phone in the office of the Great Outdoors when enter the Outsiders. A couple was visiting the arboretum, and they had the NERVE to interrupt my scheming rescue-the-dog-and-rescue-the-people shenanigans. They couldn't help but overhear me. Yeah, them and the rest of the world. And they just happen to volunteer with a rescue in the area. And they just happen to have a thing for Golden Retrievers, and I'm very certain the whole of The Great Outdoors heard me mention, oh, maybe, a hundred times that this found dog was of Golden Retriever descent. They seized a moment, and they created change. They made a choice. They gave me an opportunity, their names, and a cell phone number, and as they wandered away, I was aghast. What just happened?

Magic happened, for as my cell phone began flashing and beeping its battery warnings, and as my son was counting audibly (and irritably) to 120 in order to drive home the message that he was more than ready to move on, I began rapid fire phone calls and text messages and phone number exchanges and prayers that one Good Samaritan might connect with the other, that strangers might truly connect. The phone died, but my hope didn't. Nor did my faith, although it might have been on some shaky ground. I simply had to hold onto it, though, and go about my day. Eli and I whiled away the hours of the afternoon exploring and hunting art installation pieces among the gardens. We picked up our fosterlings from their spay appointments. We drove the hour home.

I don't like to leave things unfinished. I like to follow through and follow up as much as possible. I am far from perfect in that regard, but in this case, I made the time. Well, of course it was a happy outcome! Of course it was! The connection was made. The dog is safe. Landlords are, hopefully, appeased. Golden Retriever lovers are, hopefully, enjoying the gift they took into their home to hold for three days. Are strangers really strangers? Are we really strangers in this world, you and I who may never meet face to face or might just pass each other on a street? On a day like today I believe that no, we are not. We choose to become strangers when we turn our backs on each other. We find lots of excuses - that is, we make lots of choices - to become strangers. But today we allowed ourselves to be friends and to bring a little peace to the world in our way. And our doggy friend? Well, it looks like she definitely deserves a bit of peace too! The poor gal has three microchips which lead to dead ends, including, apparently, one where a rescue or shelter lost her after chipping her and simply doesn't want her back. Suffice it to say, I think she has happy days ahead of her, and I am not going to criticize any of it, because I'd rather like to think that it must be meant to be. Don't you believe so?

I urge myself, my son, and all of us to remember those around us. We rarely know a whole story, let alone a fragment. Fragments are all too often facades which mask realities we may not be able to understand. Compassion, making time for each other, pausing, caring, and asking questions instead of preaching and criticizing and closing doors...today, I know that I am not alone in seeing that these are the qualities we need to build a world which thrives for all. Such qualities ARE the magic of living, in animal rescue and beyond. Definitely beyond.

Love from the Tailroad, Chandra