The world has made me deeply sad lately. It's mass chaos and I have considered building a bunker to keep me and those I love safe. But, I know I can't do that (unfortunately) and so we have to just keep pushing on and figuring out a way to live without fear. To adjust to the new world order of daily, heartbreaking news, and an orange presidential candidate espousing xenophobic rhetoric while being applauded. Frankly, it's terrifying but here we are. Yay for us, world. We seemingly have not learned a damn thing.
In the midst of all of this world confusion a friend sent me a text. She had found a dog that had been deliberately abandoned by her owner. You see the dog was microchipped and my friend took her back to her home. The owners said they didn't want her and closed the door in her face. Without thinking I said 'I want that dog'. I may not be able to build a bunker but I sure as hell can take in a dog that needs a bit of love. And so she arrived, terrified and thin. She didn't yelp or bark and walked with her head down. She shook with fear whenever she saw a broom and I immediately knew she'd been abused.
So for the last week I've spent most of my day on the floor. Coaxing, petting, murmuring. Introducing her to toddlers and cats and love, teaching her that rugs aren't for peeing on. I found out she has a pretty decent heart murmur and doesn't have the longest life expectancy. I know that's more than likely why she was tossed out on the street. It's made me even more fiercely protective of her, less willing to leave her side. I probably self identify with a dog a little too much, guys, but I think it's ok. I've lavished on her the type of love I would have liked to have received when I escaped my old home too. Under it, in just a week, she's blossomed. She is playful, fun and bounces like a bunny. It's helped me really and truly understand what it's like to heal. That it's ok to accept affection and how to give it in return. To admit that I had healed (at least mostly) and it was ok to be afraid but it was also ok to show some joy, too. She was a missing part of our home and my weird tribe that I didn't realize existed. It's a beautiful thing, even if it does bring the count of incontinent mammals that reside in my house up to 2.
My life has gotten infinitely more chaotic but with it has come a better awareness of the pockets of happiness that exist on a daily basis. Like the fact that my daughter calls stickers 'happy'. That she now winks when she smiles. That my dog runs in delirious circles of excitement when I come back in the room. That my grumpy old cats curl up in my lap when I take work calls. I've been laughing more and actually, truly smiling. Time is pretty incredible. It may have taken me 18 months and my dog a week, but both of us, we are where we are supposed to be. Finally.