Friday, May 15, 2020

Ruff Draft: Ode to the Perfectly Imperfect

Sierra was her name. 

We fostered her and her much taller, more developed sister and brother. She was the runt of the litter. 
She had this large head, with ears that flopped down at the tips. Her sleepy eyes were a light hazel, in some light they matched her fur. Well, what fur she had since she had a mange that left paisley patterns around her shoulders and neck. At first, I thought they were spots, and I guess they were, bald spots. 
She had a body the size and shape of a Haas avocado with spindly legs that could barely support her head. 
One day, she was wandering around our house when she spotted me in my office. She got all excited. Was she looking for me and finally found me? Was she just trying to get away from her siblings and found refuge. Was she looking for someplace to take a nap and thought this was the perfect place? I don’t know. 
But she saw me, stopped her forward motion, tilted her gigantic head sideways and propelled her body towards me. What I mean is that, unlike her brother and sister who were agile and competent in their movements, Sierra was not. 
Since she wanted to come to me, she cocked her head to the side but her legs didn’t move forward, two paws at a time, no. They seemed to be going all which ways with her head as a rudder. I half-expected that soundtrack you hear in cartoons, the one that plays when a character’s legs would go a mile a minute but they just stayed in place. 
Anyway, I described it to Peter who wondered aloud if she was all there. I said, "What do you mean?" "You know, maybe she’s not firing on all cylinders." he said. I said, "Don’t be silly, of course she is." But in retrospect, who knew? I certainly didn’t care. She was adorable. 
I didn't record that, but I did record her as she timidly sidled up to Dorothy, unsure if she would be "allowed". She had done that a few times with me too. She decided she wanted to sleep next to Peter and me and gingerly crept up and gently lay down touching us both. She stayed very still as if she was afraid we'd notice her and chase her away. When she determined the coast was clear, she closed her eyes and actually grinned, a very self-satisfied grin.  
To be the recipient of her affection, as scared as she was to give it, was beyond fulfilling. She kissed me once because she was so intent on the feeling, so wanted to give me that kiss, that she couldn’t help herself. Have you ever been kissed like that? The feeling was just unstoppable. I think she surprised herself.

One morning, she was whining along with her brother and sister, asking to be put on our bed. Up went the brother who immediately sniffed the perimeter of the bed. Up went the sister who gave me some kisses and when she saw I wasn’t going to give her any food, proceeded to lick Peter’s face, then Dorothy’s. And up went Sierra, who clambered up over me and settled down between Peter and myself. After a few minutes she wound up on her back, letting her paws droop, with her huge head tilted backward. Then, she began to snore. No, that’s not right. She had a high fever and had trouble breathing. It was more a wheezing than a snore. It endeared her to me all the more. 

I cry thinking about her. 

She was only with us a few days. As tiny as she was, she was already 8 weeks old. Along with her brother and sister, all three went to the Animal Welfare Center to be fixed then off to the Adoption Center for their forever homes. 
I called about her the next day. I was worried about her fever. No, I was told, she was well enough to be operated on and was at the pet center. 
Later that day, the first day at the adoption center, I found out she was adopted. 
See? I wasn’t the only one that could love a hurt, less than perfect, a little bit mangy, a lot underdeveloped puppy. Of course her sister was adopted the same day. She was gorgeous! The brother was adopted a day afterward. Makes me feel good that I contributed to them having a better life. That they got to be in a home where they were cared for and loved. That they understood that humans weren’t all bad. That living in a house with other pets was a good thing. Our family, including our rescued dog, Dorothy helps save a life with each fostering. 
We’ve helped a dozen or so dogs so far, but I tell you, there were more than a few that we considered keeping. There was Piglet, who was only 8 days old and so very needy. There was Forest who was so frigging cool and chill and was rock-star handsome. Then there was Jackson who insisted on sleeping on my chest. I can’t forget Skye, our first feral dog, who by the end was sweet and loving. But to-date, Sierra will be the dog I’ll always wish I kept. Her disadvantage compared to her siblings, her weakness, her awkwardness, and her mange. The first time I reached out to her and she rested her entire head in my hand, that defined love for me. The helplessness of this underdeveloped dog, this underdog, will forever hold my heart. 




Be well, sweet Sierra. Enjoy your new home. Entrust in your new family. And always know, I love you not for what you will be, but all that you are and are not.