Once in awhile you realize that you should have faith in fate – faith in something bigger than yourself – faith, that when you least expect it, your life is going to take a turn and make you a better person – perhaps, even, the person you are supposed to be.
I like to say that I rescued Thorp. I swooped in and carried him away from a miserable life and gave him a second chance at what he so rightfully deserved.
In the rescue world we often say, “It was the dog who rescued me.” And, that could not be any truer than it is for me and Thorp.
I have always identified all the things that Thorp has taught me: patience, unconditional love, gratitude… But, I never realized, fully, how much he could change me as a person – or what experiences he would give me the opportunity to explore – or ultimately, the way he would nurture a side of me I barely understood - or even knew existed.
It’s no secret that me and kids are not really a “thing.” There is a reason I rescue animals – because I feel all the things that many people feel about children. I don’t dislike children – I love my daughters and my grandchildren with all of my heart and would give them anything and support them in whatever they choose but me and kids – I just never had the patience or the ability to make a real connection.
For 6 years I volunteered in Abby’s class – reading to them, doing sight words, leading art projects – but I really never looked forward to it… It was part of the stay at home mom job and I did it. I would always leave there feeling frazzled and questioning how anyone, in their right mind, would want to be a teacher!
When I signed Thorp up for training to be a therapy dog and envisioned taking him to classes – I naively overlooked that I would find myself in a classroom again – with kids. I was so focused on the goal – that the facts surrounding it evaded me.
Thorp and I attempted to find him employment (he works for free) many times before we came to our current school. No one wanted to hire us – our future seemed a bit dismal. And that is when I met Mary and a whole new opportunity opened up to us – to work with kids who have varying emotional and behavioral challenges.
When I told people where Thorp got a job – they would fall silent and quietly sigh. Maybe it was because they knew me and wondered what the Hell I was doing… I had never even given it a second thought because I was doing this for Thorp. I felt that his second chance met allowing him to pursue what I believed was his calling.
A week ago I walked into a classroom and became instantly attached. I saw the impact Thorp would have on these kids and instantly everything he and I had been through made sense.
But yesterday, yesterday cemented all those feelings. We walked in and the kids ran to Thorp and to me – we both got hugs and when we sat on the carpet and read the giant dog book I brought – it felt amazingly right.
In a week, I have come to feel like I know these kids. I think it’s because they are so open – their feelings are never hidden and they have this unbridled desire to participate. It’s not an easy classroom, don’t get me wrong. Somehow, Mary handles it with ease – it is amazing but there is just something about being there that feels unbelievably different than ever volunteering in Abby’s class.
No one, who knows me, would have ever predicted that I would find comfort in a class like Mary’s – they would be in disbelief that I could be so excited and so patient with the kids – but I am.
Maybe Thorp is the conduit between us.
Yesterday one of the girls was having a hard time – she didn’t want to participate and was very upset. She didn’t want Thorp – but somehow - he walked over to her – as if he knew. He came up beside her and with little hesitation she reached out to him. I had to catch my breath.
The little boy I fell in love with last week – sat with me and talked to Thorp and showed us his family tree. He melts my heart and leaves me thinking about him long after I leave the school.
A few of the kids made beaded necklaces for Thorp and he wore them proudly as we left the classroom.
I was sad to leave and anxious to return… who would have thought?
Its amazing where life takes us – on paths and journey’s we never saw ourselves on - plans we never would have made for ourselves – some rather unthinkable.
Three years ago – almost to the day – I walked into a barn and rescued a dog – I hadn’t a clue what I was doing or even a thought that he would change my life – and now when I least expect it I find myself in a place I never would have dreamt of – full of compassion I didn’t know I had and a desire to help make a difference... alongside the dog who rescued me.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Truths: The title of stay at home mom
Today I am having a bunch of “girls” – moms over to celebrate a birthday. We will have snacks and drinks and maybe a few jello shots (don’t tell DCFS) and it is my hope that everyone will have fun – nothing too crazy…
And when I woke up this morning, I couldn’t help but think about what my life was like 12 years – when my daughter was first born. I had been a working professional – busy with projects and corporate reports – managing things like compensation and benefits – recruitment. I loved my job and ultimately, it was pretty much what defined me.
After Abby was born and my 12 weeks of maternity leave were up, I went back part-time. But in just a few months – I was ragged. I felt like I wasn’t doing either job well so I gave up my profession and became a “stay at home mom.”
For many months it was devastating. Its not something that many people talk about until many years later. But, it makes sense.
You go from 8-12 hour days – doing work that identifies you and then one day – you are plopped on a sofa, in your PJ’s, watching Oprah and wondering what the Hell happened.
It was really hard for me – really hard. In fact, so hard that when Abby was 18 months, I went back to work. And, I flourished. I was “me” again. And I did well – becoming a manager and leading my department – making decisions that impacted a whole company…until one day – I was burned out and wondering what more could I do with my life.
I left the world of corporate America and joined the forces of charity work. I did wildlife rehab, fundraising and volunteered at Abby’s school. It was odd at first but slowly it all started to mesh.
Here I am 7 years later completely content with my life. I am involved in animal rescue, I write this blog, I am working on a novel and now I am doing therapy dog work at a school. And, of course, I am still a “stay at home mom.”
But here’s the real thing… when I woke up this morning and thought about my day – I thought about the friends I have made. I guess you could say that they are my co-workers now in this “profession.” They help me make decisions and they support me when my days aren’t so good.
It took 12 years to get to this point – to feel settled into this role – to find new purpose and be fulfilled. It also took all this time to find the right friends – the right co-workers, so to speak.
Today they are all coming over – and we are having an after work happy hour. (Our work days are never over – so Happy Hour has no boundaries…) I couldn’t be more excited and I couldn’t be more grateful to not only feel good about my role but to have all the right friends to share it with.
And when I woke up this morning, I couldn’t help but think about what my life was like 12 years – when my daughter was first born. I had been a working professional – busy with projects and corporate reports – managing things like compensation and benefits – recruitment. I loved my job and ultimately, it was pretty much what defined me.
After Abby was born and my 12 weeks of maternity leave were up, I went back part-time. But in just a few months – I was ragged. I felt like I wasn’t doing either job well so I gave up my profession and became a “stay at home mom.”
For many months it was devastating. Its not something that many people talk about until many years later. But, it makes sense.
You go from 8-12 hour days – doing work that identifies you and then one day – you are plopped on a sofa, in your PJ’s, watching Oprah and wondering what the Hell happened.
It was really hard for me – really hard. In fact, so hard that when Abby was 18 months, I went back to work. And, I flourished. I was “me” again. And I did well – becoming a manager and leading my department – making decisions that impacted a whole company…until one day – I was burned out and wondering what more could I do with my life.
I left the world of corporate America and joined the forces of charity work. I did wildlife rehab, fundraising and volunteered at Abby’s school. It was odd at first but slowly it all started to mesh.
Here I am 7 years later completely content with my life. I am involved in animal rescue, I write this blog, I am working on a novel and now I am doing therapy dog work at a school. And, of course, I am still a “stay at home mom.”
But here’s the real thing… when I woke up this morning and thought about my day – I thought about the friends I have made. I guess you could say that they are my co-workers now in this “profession.” They help me make decisions and they support me when my days aren’t so good.
It took 12 years to get to this point – to feel settled into this role – to find new purpose and be fulfilled. It also took all this time to find the right friends – the right co-workers, so to speak.
Today they are all coming over – and we are having an after work happy hour. (Our work days are never over – so Happy Hour has no boundaries…) I couldn’t be more excited and I couldn’t be more grateful to not only feel good about my role but to have all the right friends to share it with.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tails: A hero for $65.00
Three years ago tomorrow I walked into a cold, metal barn and saw what would later change my life – or maybe it changed my life the minute I walked in the barn. I would walk around haystacks and look into wire crates and see the empty eyes of dogs I only thought existed.
I would make my way to a dog labeled #171. He was filthy and matted and when I looked at him, something in my heart opened up.
A gentle spark took me by surprise and instantly I felt a desire to take this dog, among the hundreds of others, home with me.
I remember opening the cage door and touching him. My heart racing both in anticipation and pure fright. I didn’t know what I was doing here, I didn’t know if I could open the cage doors and pet the animals, I didn’t know anything that day – but I knew that I had to reach out to this dog.
#171 didn’t move when I brushed my hand on his head but as I took it away – he licked my finger and if there was any question about rescuing this dog – it was answered in just one lick.
Three miserable hours later, I walked out with #171 – whom I named half way through the auction. He cost me $65.00.
There was no conceivable reason for what I did – common sense had no place in what happened. I just acted on a feeling I don’t think I will ever have again.
Yesterday, Thorp walked into a local school and touched the lives of children who are challenged – emotionally. They each come with special needs and have a difficult time fitting into mainstream education.
They had been anticipating Thorp’s arrival for a week.
Thorp and I went and sat on the carpet area and the kids were invited two at a time to come and pet him. We introduced ourselves (no one really cared that I was there) and the kids all told Thorp their names and their grades.
They wanted to touch him, to hold him for he was their reward for the day – he was their motivation for being well-behaved – yesterday, Thorp was their hero.
One boy in particular held onto Thorp’s face firmly but gently and didn’t want to let go. He looked right into Thorp’s eyes and the moment took my breath away.
Here, a little boy, who is challenged in many ways, made this inspiring connection with a dog once only known as a number. A dog who could be bought for $65.00 and yet a dog who has the potential to change a little boy’s life.
They took a picture of Thorp and the boy and it hangs over his coat hook as his motivator for good behavior. All he desires is to be with Thorp and he only met him once.
The other kids all enjoyed Thorp and I know that they will come to love him and to look forward to spending every Tuesday with him – but the connection the little boy has with Thorp is a once in a lifetime. I know because it is the same connection I made with him three years ago.
Everyone who meets Thorp, young and old, feels something special about him. He has an understated compassion and a desire to be loved that is undescribable.
I didn’t know that day I rescued him that he would be a therapy dog, I only knew that he was something special – he would have a story to tell – a purpose bigger than I could understand.
And here he is, years later, sitting on the floor of my local school – impacting the lives of children for the better – a hero for $65.00.
I would make my way to a dog labeled #171. He was filthy and matted and when I looked at him, something in my heart opened up.
A gentle spark took me by surprise and instantly I felt a desire to take this dog, among the hundreds of others, home with me.
I remember opening the cage door and touching him. My heart racing both in anticipation and pure fright. I didn’t know what I was doing here, I didn’t know if I could open the cage doors and pet the animals, I didn’t know anything that day – but I knew that I had to reach out to this dog.
#171 didn’t move when I brushed my hand on his head but as I took it away – he licked my finger and if there was any question about rescuing this dog – it was answered in just one lick.
Three miserable hours later, I walked out with #171 – whom I named half way through the auction. He cost me $65.00.
There was no conceivable reason for what I did – common sense had no place in what happened. I just acted on a feeling I don’t think I will ever have again.
Yesterday, Thorp walked into a local school and touched the lives of children who are challenged – emotionally. They each come with special needs and have a difficult time fitting into mainstream education.
They had been anticipating Thorp’s arrival for a week.
Thorp and I went and sat on the carpet area and the kids were invited two at a time to come and pet him. We introduced ourselves (no one really cared that I was there) and the kids all told Thorp their names and their grades.
They wanted to touch him, to hold him for he was their reward for the day – he was their motivation for being well-behaved – yesterday, Thorp was their hero.
One boy in particular held onto Thorp’s face firmly but gently and didn’t want to let go. He looked right into Thorp’s eyes and the moment took my breath away.
Here, a little boy, who is challenged in many ways, made this inspiring connection with a dog once only known as a number. A dog who could be bought for $65.00 and yet a dog who has the potential to change a little boy’s life.
They took a picture of Thorp and the boy and it hangs over his coat hook as his motivator for good behavior. All he desires is to be with Thorp and he only met him once.
The other kids all enjoyed Thorp and I know that they will come to love him and to look forward to spending every Tuesday with him – but the connection the little boy has with Thorp is a once in a lifetime. I know because it is the same connection I made with him three years ago.
Everyone who meets Thorp, young and old, feels something special about him. He has an understated compassion and a desire to be loved that is undescribable.
I didn’t know that day I rescued him that he would be a therapy dog, I only knew that he was something special – he would have a story to tell – a purpose bigger than I could understand.
And here he is, years later, sitting on the floor of my local school – impacting the lives of children for the better – a hero for $65.00.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Truths: Second opinions
For the last 4 weeks I have been confident that I had lymphoma. I had felt a lump on my neck and went to my Dr – who felt it too and sent me to an ENT. The ENT felt it and sent me for a CT scan… once he read the scan he explained to me that I should have two lymph nodes removed and biopsied and while he didn’t think they were malignant it was better to take them out. As he put it, “You have a lot of them – you aren’t going to miss two.”
But, what I would miss was my scarless neck. And I would miss ten days of my life because I would be unable to do anything… I could “walk” he said but that was it.
Of course I did what you shouldn’t – googled every possible scenario on the web… and yes, I diagnosed myself with the worst one.
Friends and family convinced me to get a second opinion. So, I used my googling skills to find someone.
Whether its right or wrong – I wasn’t going to waste my time on local specialists – I was going downtown to the teaching hospitals and found my luck at my alma mater – University of Illinois.
Based on a detailed biography of one of the doctor’s (who happened to be a woman) I knew she would be the perfect fit. I could almost tell she would make me feel comfortable – because, well, the other Dr. just didn’t.
Bill and I drove down yesterday and I was seen by both a competent (and kinda cute) resident and after his exam the Dr. came in and did another one. (it was sort of like being on Grey’s Anatomy) They BOTH read my CT scan unlike the other Dr. who only read the report of my scan.
And with utter kindness and confidence the Dr. said, “I wouldn’t do anything.”
She was happy to take her time and explain why. The lumps (there were two now) did not feel that out of the ordinary – they didn’t present like lymphoma and she wasn’t worried.
And I knew - she knew - what she was talking about.
Sure she said I could have them removed – if they were keeping me up at night. She felt that was a valid reason, which I thought was rather understanding. But her suggestion would be to have another CT scan in 4 months and come back and see her.
We took her advice and walked out there with smiles on our faces.
Of course, there is the chance that her opinion is the wrong one. But, in my heart I don’t think it is. And if I were on the fence about it – her wonderful bedside manner is all it would take to swing my vote.
Thank goodness for second opinions.
Second opinions don’t always come from doctors… I recently went out with some friends – one of who is going through a really rough time. Her and I have been in touch about it – but when we got together we included another friend of ours to talk it through. I know my friend was reluctant at first – it is just so hard to talk about.
But as I watched her fumble to get the words out – I could easily see from the other friend’s face that telling her was the absolute right thing to do. Her concern was obvious (her tears gave her away). And once everything was out on the table – I could feel the air was lighter and warmer.
Maybe it is selfish on my part – but I needed to share the responsibility of making my friend better – with someone else. Mostly, I knew we needed a second opinion. Another outlook and of course, more love to help her through it all.
Four hours later – many bottles of beer and wine – and three friends were doing what good friends do – talking it out – sharing concerns and above all else expressing that all we want is for our friend to be happy.
I know it was hard to open up to another person – but in the end, I know she is glad that she did it. Its not something she would share with all her friends but this friend was by far the right one and her second opinion made a difference.
Second opinions are scary. They often seem to weigh much heavier than the firsts. Do we want our situations confirmed or are we hoping for different news? When we hear that second opinion – does it mean we should get a third?
Life really comes down to opinions. I like that better than this. I don’t trust him. I love her. I would rather be here. My favorite color is pink. I want to buy that car.
We spend our life giving opinions and often relying on other’s opinions to make or break how we feel.
We shouldn’t always seek out only those who agree with us (though that often feels the best) but we should be both willing to hear our opposition and yet secure enough with our own opinions to hold strong if we feel it is the right thing to do.
Holding strong to my second opinion and I know my friend is grateful for the second opinion she got last night. Life is too hard to figure out on your own – embrace the opportunity to look outside yourself.
But, what I would miss was my scarless neck. And I would miss ten days of my life because I would be unable to do anything… I could “walk” he said but that was it.
Of course I did what you shouldn’t – googled every possible scenario on the web… and yes, I diagnosed myself with the worst one.
Friends and family convinced me to get a second opinion. So, I used my googling skills to find someone.
Whether its right or wrong – I wasn’t going to waste my time on local specialists – I was going downtown to the teaching hospitals and found my luck at my alma mater – University of Illinois.
Based on a detailed biography of one of the doctor’s (who happened to be a woman) I knew she would be the perfect fit. I could almost tell she would make me feel comfortable – because, well, the other Dr. just didn’t.
Bill and I drove down yesterday and I was seen by both a competent (and kinda cute) resident and after his exam the Dr. came in and did another one. (it was sort of like being on Grey’s Anatomy) They BOTH read my CT scan unlike the other Dr. who only read the report of my scan.
And with utter kindness and confidence the Dr. said, “I wouldn’t do anything.”
She was happy to take her time and explain why. The lumps (there were two now) did not feel that out of the ordinary – they didn’t present like lymphoma and she wasn’t worried.
And I knew - she knew - what she was talking about.
Sure she said I could have them removed – if they were keeping me up at night. She felt that was a valid reason, which I thought was rather understanding. But her suggestion would be to have another CT scan in 4 months and come back and see her.
We took her advice and walked out there with smiles on our faces.
Of course, there is the chance that her opinion is the wrong one. But, in my heart I don’t think it is. And if I were on the fence about it – her wonderful bedside manner is all it would take to swing my vote.
Thank goodness for second opinions.
Second opinions don’t always come from doctors… I recently went out with some friends – one of who is going through a really rough time. Her and I have been in touch about it – but when we got together we included another friend of ours to talk it through. I know my friend was reluctant at first – it is just so hard to talk about.
But as I watched her fumble to get the words out – I could easily see from the other friend’s face that telling her was the absolute right thing to do. Her concern was obvious (her tears gave her away). And once everything was out on the table – I could feel the air was lighter and warmer.
Maybe it is selfish on my part – but I needed to share the responsibility of making my friend better – with someone else. Mostly, I knew we needed a second opinion. Another outlook and of course, more love to help her through it all.
Four hours later – many bottles of beer and wine – and three friends were doing what good friends do – talking it out – sharing concerns and above all else expressing that all we want is for our friend to be happy.
I know it was hard to open up to another person – but in the end, I know she is glad that she did it. Its not something she would share with all her friends but this friend was by far the right one and her second opinion made a difference.
Second opinions are scary. They often seem to weigh much heavier than the firsts. Do we want our situations confirmed or are we hoping for different news? When we hear that second opinion – does it mean we should get a third?
Life really comes down to opinions. I like that better than this. I don’t trust him. I love her. I would rather be here. My favorite color is pink. I want to buy that car.
We spend our life giving opinions and often relying on other’s opinions to make or break how we feel.
We shouldn’t always seek out only those who agree with us (though that often feels the best) but we should be both willing to hear our opposition and yet secure enough with our own opinions to hold strong if we feel it is the right thing to do.
Holding strong to my second opinion and I know my friend is grateful for the second opinion she got last night. Life is too hard to figure out on your own – embrace the opportunity to look outside yourself.
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