Lost and Found

One day, out of the blue, my daughter got a text from her boyfriend. He had just found two dogs wandering in the middle of nowhere. He pulled over, called them and they eagerly came to him and willingly got into his truck.

They were abandoned by their owners. The Catskill dog warden said there was a history of the family ditching these two dogs. This time, she wouldn't return them. Instead she would put them up for adoption at the animal shelter.

We wanted them. Abandoned dogs that were sweet enough to come when you called them. They were older and the shelter was relieved that anyone would want them. Elderly dogs were not what people were looking to adopt

As it turned out, each of us, Peter, Macallan, Markham and I would go on three different occasions to check out the dogs. They were so sweet. Well, in reality, Lewis (as we would come to name him) was very attentive and happy and couldn't be more handsome. His brother, Clark, not so much. Clark was only fixated on Lewis. He did not make a very positive impression on us. But we all wanted Lewis, so "Yes", we said to the shelter, "We'll take them both."

Unfortunately, Lewis wouldn't survive. He was 15 or older, in poor health, uncared for and extremely thin, we were told. Clark, though was all set. OK, we all agreed we'd take him. But I wondered if he'd ever interact with us.

Well, soon after bringing him home, he had attacehd himself to me. He would look for me, whining from room to room if I went out. He'd rouse himself from his deep sleep when I came home. He needed to be right next to me at all times. I loved it. And loved him.

I felt so responsible for him that I'd try to take him everywhere I went. Co-dependency was a real issue here, something I'd never really experienced before. I don't know who missed whom more?

My sister came to visit and met our new family member. She looked at him and then at me and reminded me of a dog I used to draw when I was little. The image hit me like a slap in the face. Yes, that's right. I knew this dog and drew this dog over and over and over again.

When I was a little girl, I used to doodle a lot. I couldn't really draw and had no artistic ability (still don't), but I'd draw this one dog over and over and over again.

Recently, I found a journal from when I was in 5th grade. A basset-hound-kinda-dog that filled my imagination and filled the pages in my daily diary. I remember thinking he would be my best friend,  that he only had eyes for me, big, sad, lonely, loving eyes only for me.

I have no recollection of where the bank came from but I also had a huge plastic basset hound bank with the same expression.

Could it be that my long lost memories of simpler, happier, impressionable, and hopeful times had come alive? Did this mean that my life is fulfilled? Does it show that instead of feeling lost and abandoned (an issue I've had since my parents left us in the Philippines for a year when I was 4), I am found?

It did not escape me, the irony of "finding" and "rescuing" a dog, only to realize I am the one that was lost and now found.

I'm still exploring the message. I'm not sure what the takeaway is. But I know that it makes me feel safe, secure, and loved. Every day, I get reminders, signs, symbols and guides that help me find the direction "home".

Thank YOU, the royal YOU for always looking out for me. I'm not religious, so YOU is not a particular god, but a collection of energy that enfolds me. Thank YOU for making me feel that I'm worth looking after. And thank YOU for showing me moment by moment how fulfilling life can be.

In honor of #NationalDogDay #BassetHound love #childhood security blanket #LostandFound #Petsareheaven #guidance #signs #spiritualawakening #inspiration #HudsonValley home #Abandonment

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