Tail Talk

Last week I wrote about our great sense of loss in having to return Vinson to the shelter, and in particular about my grief over my promise to give him a forever home that I was not able to keep. There are people out there that wonder about statements like that and why someone would feel this way towards an animal. I was raised with pets my entire lifetime. I don’t ever remember a time when I didn’t have a dog to share my life, and I remember many, many times growing up when the only understanding and acceptance I felt came from my four legged furry friend. That’s not to say there weren’t people there that tried, but they were there with words like “oh it’s just in your mind” and “you shouldn’t feel that way” among others. My dog, on the other hand, was satisfied to lay next to me, watching me, waiting for me to talk while always letting me know they would be there no matter how horrible the situation I was dealing with. That comfort and compassion has lasted through to my adulthood, bringing me to my story about my very first shelter dog. After my first husband (you’ll understand in a moment why he’s no longer in my life) and I were married we took our wedding money and went out to purchase items necessary to our daily living. But after walking past a pet store we came home with an 8 week old female Cocker Spaniel instead. Then we purchased a male with the grand idea we would raise puppies. Great idea except our puppies were ready to go around the first of September, the same time everyone was broke from buying school supplies for the year. I finally called around to the pet shops in St. Louis and found one that was willing to purchase our puppies. Fast forward a couple of years and on the evening news I see that they’re closing down the pet store we sold our puppies to because they were a puppy mill, and in the arms of a reporter was the most beautiful cocker spaniel and I knew immediately that was one of our puppies. I applied for and was approved for her adoption through the Humane Society. During the years between we had three children, all boys, the oldest and twins that were born 18 months later. After the birth of the twins I began to suffer from post-partum depression, something that was unheard of 34 years ago. It was the most horrible time of my life and I knew I needed help, even asking for it repeatedly, only to be told to just buck it up. As my depression got worse our lives suffered dramatically until the tipping point when I began to save dirty diapers, an unimaginable mess with three babies going through at least six diaper changes daily. But it was finally enough that my mother took me to the hospital and I was admitted to the psychiatric ward for a three week “vacation.” It was the best thing that ever happened to me, and after three weeks of therapy and medication I was ready to come home and greet the challenges that I thought would be waiting for me. But upon my return home I found my babies preferred to be with my parents’ and my husband had started an affair with my best friend. During my three weeks away my world fell apart. While I had the tools to overcome these obstacles it was too much for me to handle all at once, and I decided the world would be a better place if I wasn’t a part of it. My kids preferred being with my folks, my husband preferred my “best” friend, and my best friend was no longer someone I could talk to about what was happening in my life. I had lost it all. I had a brand new prescription of antidepressants sitting on the night stand and I got out a pen and paper to write a letter to my children to explain to them why their mother had decided to kill herself. While lying on the bed, crying, composing the letter in my head before putting it to paper, my shelter dog jumped up on the bed and licked the tears from my face. At that moment I knew I couldn’t die because I knew there was no one that could love that dog like I could, and with everything she had been through I knew I had to live to take care of her no matter what my new life would be like. I got up from my bed with a new conviction to do whatever it took to get better and make the best life I could for myself, my children and my pets. If it hadn’t been for that shelter dog I would not be here today. There is never a day that goes by that I don’t remember that it is through the unconditional love of an animal that I am here to share the blessings of life with my family and friends, and now all of you. I know the rewards of adopting a shelter dog better than most, but I feel that all of our pets make that kind of impact in our lives every day. We may not realize that they are there to help us through life and death situations but they are, and there will never be a time when I will be without the love and companionship of a pet because I know my life depends on it. If you don’t have this generosity of spirit guiding your daily lives there are shelter dogs waiting to help you through the very worst of times at this very moment at the Randolph County Humane Society and other shelters in your area. Don’t delay in bringing this love into your home because your life or that of a family member may be saved through their unconditional love, just as mine was. If you are unable to adopt at this time then think about making a donation in appreciation of all that your pets do for you and your family on a daily basis. And never forget, it is only through you that the Randolph County Humane Society continues to save lives, one by one.