Dearest Lady Zola,
It was one week ago, about this time, that I was made aware of your existence. I trudged through mud and rain to leave you a crate and some blankets. Did you remember my smell from that moment?
I’m sorry it took us another 48 hours to coax you into that trap. And then the night in the shelter. We all should really spend a night in a kennel, just to experience that. But I know it’s not the best place for homeless pets. While it’s not our only option, it’s the best we can do at the moment. We’ll make it better, I promise.
But I digress. In saving you, I know that I’ve made your life better. And you should know that there are so many people rooting for you. Jen Buescher Snieg and Rachel Angress hang on your every move, alerting me to progress, when I direct my attention away from the ‘puppy-cam’.
I also know that for every dog I save, there’s a greater good, a greater purpose. It will become clear later, and that’s ok with me.
But today, you played with a tennis ball.
You’ve been decompressing, sleeping, getting warm, figuring out where exactly you’ve landed and what we do here. You have cautiously welcomed me and, in your way, you’ve been asking me to take it slow and introduce you to what it means to be a dog-of-mine. Hint: Girly – it means love!
So, now, when I approach, even without chicken, you do not slink to the back of your space, you do not try to make yourself small and un-noticed, you do not weave and dodge with head low. You stay put and you wag your tail and you look me straight in my eyes…with tentative love.
And that is enough.
Sue and a whole bunch of others