I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so just bear with me.

Tomorrow is my dog's birthday, and it will be a happier post, I promise. I saw something today that made my blood boil so badly that I can't NOT say something. I have to purge these feelings before I explode.

So, readers, as you know, I work in an animal shelter. I do not do the everyday things, like cleaning cages and taking in (or adopting out) animals - I'm the development director, and as such, I don't see many horrifying things. I know that they happen, but by and large, where I live, there are not as many terrible things that happen to animals - there are lots of resources for a fairly small area, and the impact of my organization is big and far-reaching. We're some of the lucky ones. I'm fairly closed off from the bad things that do happen - I hear about them, and sometimes see the animals that are affected, but that's about it. However, the amazing women that work in the shelter directly see all kinds of things that I'm sure I couldn't stomach on a day-to-day basis. They do it every day. At first, I couldn't figure out how they did it, some of them for many, many years. Then today, I figured it out.

It took seeing the picture associated with this story to get it. Warning: that link contains an extremely graphic picture of an animal who had its face blown off by a firecracker. It also has the story behind it, so read it if you must. You've been warned.

Since I started working at the shelter, I had felt like others had this X factor that made them satisfied and happy in their jobs and feeling like they were making an impact that I just wasn't getting. It wasn't just the ladies that work in the shelter - it was all of them. Except me. I couldn't identify it, and because of that, I couldn't quite tap into it or relate to anyone that I was working with.

Today, I was able to identify it: Rage. Unadulterated, unending rage. Rage that makes you want to vomit, or cry, but instead, you take it and put it into stopping whatever it is that's causing it. Every single ounce of your energy. It's bubbling there under the surface of every single person that works there, but they don't use it to do bad things. They use it to make an even bigger dent on the terrible things that happen to animals. They use it to do more good than they were before.

I saw that picture and became filled to my very core with the kind of rage that I'm talking about. Now that I know (instead of just suspect) that it was drunken teens doing it for sport, I can't even wrap my head around that kind of cruelty.

I don't believe in the death penalty. I believe that in the end, we are judged by how we treat the least among us, and karma will get the best of us if we do terrible things. If I did believe in the death penalty, I would reserve it for three groups of people, and three groups of people only: Murderers, rapists and animal abusers. The kind of cruelty exhibited on that poor dog is absolutely unspeakable, and I feel like an eye for an eye is not enough. The rage of every individual that has ever loved an animal or been forced to bear witness to the kind of cruelty shown to this animal should be rained down on the individuals who did this. Then they should be locked away and have to suffer the consequences of what they did for as long as they live. They should suffer for the rest of their lives as this dog did for five days before it was mercifully euthanized.

To cause that kind of suffering in another living being is completely unspeakable to me. I'm not sure where I'm going with the rest of this, but I just needed to get this out there into the universe. I need to do some serious meditation and reflection about my feelings in order to begin to reconcile them about this, but for now, this is all I have.

Rest in Peace, Vucko. I'm sure you were an amazing dog, and while I am so sorry that you suffered for so long, I'm glad that you are no longer in pain. I'm so sorry that there are people in this world that would do something like that to you, and I hope that you know that your plight won't be in vain - I'm positive that many, many people will make sure of that. If not many, many people, at least one.

PHEW. Thanks for reading.

Dogs vs. Puppies

I work at an animal shelter. As such, while I do not work directly with animals, I do get to hear stories. Something that is all too common (and makes me sick to think about) is the idea of people returning their pet once it gets to not be a baby animal anymore. Puppies and kittens are the cutest things ever, and some people just don't want to take care of a grown cat or dog.

I was never concerned that I would be like these people, but I always had a lingering concern that once Miles was full-grown, having a dog would lose its luster. I feel a little ashamed admitting that, but there it is. But then a funny thing happened. As our bond developed and our relationship started to mature, while his puppy hijinks were hilarious to be sure, the things he does now are WAY funnier, and I have such an appreciation of where he is developmentally. He still surprises me almost every day with how brilliant of a dog he truly is, and I have to say that I think I was worried that the learning and surprise would go away as he got older. It doesn't go away, it just changes shape, is what I've learned. It's way more exciting when he learns a new thing, because we're not just teaching him sit and high five anymore. I've started working on "roll over" and my favorite? "Where's the kitty?" It usually results in this:


Yup, he's sitting on the back of the couch, looking for kitties. I also went "Miles! Go get Bern!" the other day and he found Bernie and licked his bum for a little while. Bernie was not impressed, but Miles understood! So I was really excited. His favorite spot in the whole apartment has become the back of that couch, so I have started to call him my dogcat.

So, while reminiscing on hilarious puppy pictures every once in a while puts a smile on my face, things like that above picture do it more, because we're finally starting to understand each other. He makes me laugh literally every single day. For instance, today I laughed at him because the times where I have brought him outside, he stuck his nose directly in the snow and just loves digging around in it. He is a hardcore snow lover, and it's so fun to bring him outside in it because he just is so excited to be there.

I think I'm just sentimental because Miles is about to turn one, on January 31, to be exact. I still can't believe that we've had him for almost 10 months, and he's not only alive, but he's also an awesome, awesome dog. He's such a good boy.