I have fostered two dogs over the last few years for an amazing local rescue. The first one was extremely difficult. She bonded with me as I did with her, so when it was time to say goodbye I cried like a little baby. She found an amazing forever home with a couple that fell in love with her. It is more than bittersweet to see your foster find a home, even when it is the perfect home.
It took a while for me to agree to a second foster, who we quickly fell in love with and ADOPTED. That is what you call a foster fail.
The rescue recently posted a message stating they needed more fosters so they could pull more dogs from the pound. I thought about it long and hard and took the plunge by responding, “If it will get a dog out of a cage, count me in.”
Say hello to Stella.
Stella was found as a stray with no ID or microchip. She is a middle aged Lhasa Apso mix whose hair was so matted they had to shave her. I had told the rescue, “No big dogs, I will get too attached.” Silly me… she is a dog. How can you not get attached! She tolerates my other dogs but really needs her own humans because she has a jealous streak when it comes to love. “You can’t pet THOSE dogs because I am here now!”
She is out of a cage and in to a home which is what it is all about. I have been thinking about life in general and have an urge to make some sort of difference in this world. She may just be a little dog, but to this little dog I am making ALL the difference in the world.
My next story is a jump from the first, but trust me… I will tie it together in the end.
This month an old friend of mine made a comment to me. “I was looking at you and thought to myself, hmmm she was never a smoker. Why does she have all those lines around her mouth. I guess you have lived a hard life.”
<moment of silence>
Those words CRUSHED me. And I mean CRUSHED. I will never be the same after that one sentence. NEVER.
First of all, the BIG line is a scar from a cat whose claw got caught on my lip when I rescued it from a tree. But to be honest, the rest are all me. I guess my years of being a “pretty woman” are over. It is mentally time to leave the “do I look pretty” stage and step in to the “I am old and no one will ever look at me as a woman again” stage. These thoughts have haunted me since the comment was made.
But now it is time to tie these two stories together.
I have been watching some fascinating “improve your life” shows on Netflix that include Forks over Knives, The Minimalists and 10 Questions for the Dalai Lama. I am also reading The Book of Joy. These are what made me realize I wanted to make a difference in this world, no matter how small. And in this world, wrinkles don’t matter. Age doesn’t matter. Looks don’t matter. Only goodness, happiness and doing for others… no matter how small or furry.
As far as the wrinkles? I believe in what Hunter S. Thompson says.
“Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely, in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting “Holy Shit, what a ride!”
But I AM buying some wrinkle cream.