The Pound or The Effects of My Thoughts on Reality

Some days require a softened lense such as a badge of thoughtfulness worn over the heart as a gentle reminder of how "things" really are, while other days appear to require we carry a shield to guard our hearts, save we might assume an actual hardening of the heart altogether. Yesterday for me required both; for it was a mixed bag, yet I wore neither the badge nor the sheild. Instead, I left myself wide open. A little forgiveness sprinkled heavily with melancholy, anger, resentment, judgment and a total lack of understanding and forgetfulness. Everything being merely a projection of my mind, I should have guessed I was being toyed with. And yet, I chose, momentarily at least, to side with my ego, to cherish untruth, and feel my anger at the injustice of it all.

How did this all come about? I decided to visit the dog pound. I'm not quite sure what took me there, but a part of me felt compelled to go and so, the other part followed. Years ago, I spent my weekends there volunteering my time as a dog-walker, washer, visitor, friend, puppy and kitten holder, and critter-confidante. Unfortunately, I cried too often and brought home too many lost souls who needed forever homes and for whom I was only too happy to comply. Consequently, I've always had three dogs in my home at any one time, until now, I have only two, and mean to keep it this way awhile. Focusing all my love on a 12 year old Shepherd and a 5 year old Eskie (American Eskimo). Both of whom are the darlings of my heart, along with two parrots, one cat and a terribly cantankerous rooster.

Dog pounds are necessary places, sadly, because without them, too many of the innocent would come to terrible endings. The "inmates" on this particular day, consisted of 95% pit bull terriers. Gorgeous, muscular, square-headed, soft-eyed beauties who had been born to love ...but found something else instead. Most were "surrendered" as they say ... a variety of reasons; "got too big" ... "plays too rough" ... "too loud" ... "jumps up"... "won't come when called" ... "moving" ... "military reassignment" ... "runs away" ... "digs" ... "aggressive..."

Having had a dog in my life nearly constantly from the day I was born, most of these "issues" are common to young dogs who, just like children, require that their family teach them how to behave to be responsible and enjoyable pack members. Every dog lover I know has lived with the chewed slippers, spotted carpets, chewed table legs, ruined white pants and favorite leather shoes, upended rose bushes, bowled-over toddlers, and scratched (or eaten through) doors of teenage dogdom. Still, the other two reasons, "moving" and "military reassignment" break my heart even more.

I feel such utter sadness at how careless we humans are. How we only consider our own worth and convenience in the scheme of things. All else, it appears, is expendable. We are merely like children without the honor and strength of character to say "no" to ourselves and our own children in the face of temptation. Instead, we take a darling puppy too adorable to pass up despite our lack of knowledge or appropriate accommodation, only to dump him when he's a gangly, obnoxious teenager, or when his presence is no longer convenient.

Being the end of summer, there were so many baby animals I could only wonder at the mentality that would forego a visit to the numerous free spay and neuter clinics in our area. But imagine, there was also a parrot (a gentle, sweet African grey) who was surrendered for being "too loud" -- obviously the previous owner neglected to read anything about parrots before making her purchase or she would've known, parrots by their very nature, are really very loud most of the time.

It is a wonder the shelter's are able to keep up as well as they do, only putting down those who've been passed up so many times there is no hope of them being adopted, usually the elderly or those with medical needs, and only to make room for the constant influx of the newly abandoned. There were at least 5 litters of kittens and another 5 litters of puppies. But, at least these babies were turned in... so they will be kept warm and fed and perhaps find loving homes. I consider the others that are not so lucky. There were also two adult Shepards, one Shepard pup, several leggy young labs and some mixed breeds, most of them large. The kind no one wants, the kind of puppies that can be difficult in their teenage years because of their sheer bulk and exuberance.

Finally, a gorgeous 9-month old Siberian husky with one blue eye, all jitters and jiggles and jumps and barks and bundles of unconditional love in need of a guiding hand and heart. Surrendered for "barking" and "jumping up." Really. At 9 months old? Who would've guessed? Of course, they do not come trained or with manuals hanging from their necks. Neither, unfortunately, are there laws to protect them from the likes of us who are prone to use things up that give us pleasure, and dump what is too difficult or inconvenient or no longer serves us.

I've never been one for too many laws. In fact, I fear laws. Because laws require that some are in authority over others. And people in authority tend to abuse their power, tend to be corrupt, and so those who must abide will always rebel. It is human nature. It is nature, itself. I pray instead for a leap in consciousness that will bring mankind to a place of understanding, true goodness and responsibility. Only evolutionary consciousness will save us. To know we are stewards of this planet, creators of this magical garden, the music makers ... the dreamers of dreams. Perhaps then we will truly honor the innocent, and stop torturing them for our fickle pleasures.

So, needless to say, I left the "dog pound" in a flood of tears. For the parrot I could not bring home and love, having two already who require my attentions, and for the too many dogs who stared deeply into my eyes, pleaded, quivered under my my hand, and begged for mercy. I gave them what I could. I touched them gently, and massaged their ears, kissed their noses, told them it would be okay, that someone would come, that they were worthy, that they would find a home of their own. I have to believe they will.

Yet, in trying to gouge out some meat of meaning in all this, rather than a heartful of hopelessness for the human race, I realized this was a challenge for me. I'd been challenged by something greater in myself to bring truth to this experience ... to these animals. To not dwell on the darkness, but to carry light. To be an example of love instead of guilt. For isn't mankind riddled enough with guilt, and this experience brought it home powerfully. I had broken a vow to myself. To be vigilent only for Love. To stop vascillating. Here ... I cherished my anger at injustice and unfairness. I looked blindly on the world through the eyes of an ego that would have me be angry and afraid. And so I struggled with truth and lies. And I shuttered at my own inability to be responsible for what I see, and remember that my seeing represents my thinking.

In retrospect, with the clarity that comes too late, but always comes, I understand that only by changing my thinking, will I bare witness to what is truth. And I realize these innocent animals are bearers of the tremendous weight of our guilt, and as such, they are examples of it. But they are also examples of our love. Mirrors, in effect.

Here, made manifest, is our collective responsibility being challenged as it must on a personal level. To see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil, and in effect, do no evil. To be only Love. To be vigilent only for Love. Someday, I have to believe ... we will.