Lessons in Bravery from a Scaredy Kat

I woke up to a sunny day. It's been raining on and off for three days, which I love, but quite honestly, I've missed the sun. No, can't look at it that way because in reality, this is perfect. This way the plants are sufficiently watered and now the sun can give them the energy to grow. 

I jumped out of bed to let Katness, our foster dog who is not housebroken, outside. If I can get her out as soon as she starts to stir, she will most likely pee and possibly poop outside instead of in. I beat her to the front door even though I notice she's pronging like a pronghorn, springing up as she propels herself forward towards the door. I had not seen her do that before. What a lovely sight! The sunshine must be intoxicating for the dogs who have been cooped up and now can freely run. 

The other four dogs make their way outside as well. There's the usual cluster as they cram their way through the door. It's all friendly bumping and growling. They always make me laugh, their personalities coming through as each of them slides past me to the patio and beyond. 

Then, there's Dorothy, the Queen, taking her own sweet time, I rush her only because the mosquitoes make their way into the house the longer I keep the door ajar. 'OK, OK,' she tells me as she picks up her pace. She gives me a look like, 'You know, I just woke up!' and 'You know, I have short legs.' With a side-eye she says, 'I'm going. I'm going!'

With all six dogs outside, I go into the kitchen to make coffee. Peter is still in bed. I tidy the kitchen, putting away dishes I've left on the drying rack, and wait for the coffee maker to finish brewing. As it does, I prepare our coffee, scooping the mixture of coconut, cane and white sugar into the mugs. We like our coffee medium-light and sweet. I take the tin cup out of the freezer and fill it 1/4 of the way up with half and half. I pour the fair trade dark roast into the mugs, stir, and start to froth the cream. I top each mug with a healthy dollop of fluffy white milky goodness and even before giving Peter his cup, I put some in each of the dogs' dishes. They like frothed milk too. (Don't you judge me, they've had hard lives, I give them little things like this to bring them joy.)

Peter is awake and scrolling through his phone. He thanks me and gives me a kiss. I let the dogs in and they race to their dishes knowing I've given them their morning "Joe" too. We have various dogs greet us with morning kisses before Peter and I start our day. . . the dogs start to lick our faces telling me they're hungry for breakfast so either Peter or I will dole-out their morning meal. 

This is typically how my day goes. I will most likely go check out our yard, taking pics of new growth or flowers. I post them if there has been rain. I create content for my many FB and IG accounts. I like sharing my day. From the comments, my Social Media "Friends" seem to enjoy seeing what I post. I don't post to get likes, although it's nice to see my views, interests, ideas validated. I don't post to make anyone jealous, I'm 60. I think those "influencers" who do crazy things and brag about it are much younger than my children, even! I post to keep connected with friends, to share my current state of affairs, to help support an org., a business, to help someone find a missing dog, to help show someone how to get involved, and sometimes, no, many times, I post to right a wrong. 

Because, you know what? Sometimes life is not all about orchids blooming, well-behaved dogs, our beautiful children, or helping your aging parents. Sometimes people fail you, folks misunderstand, and you shamefully overreact when your 88-year-old mom keeps repeating herself, not because she's elderly, but because she's stubborn. Sometimes you post the positive reaction you should have expressed to a crappy situation not because you are deceiving your followers but because that's how you would have "liked" for it to go down. Posting about it in retrospect gives you another chance to see the problem and learn from it. Maybe, you even get some closure and can move on. 

I guess what I'm saying is that I need to write. What I need to write about is my life, my world. Like my social media posts, I want to share my thoughts, what goes on in my life and my views on what's happening. But mostly, I'm going to be writing from a perspective that brings positivity to my life and the world. I'm not sugar-coating, bragging, or aggrandizing anything. What I want to do is express how I feel and try to bring an uplifting message that will inspire someone to do something, see something in a more hopeful light, spread happiness and joy. 

There's so much hurt all around us. I hurt. I have hurt others. I want to stop hurting. I want to heal. 

I have these dogs who Peter and I are helping to heal. They were traumatized by hurricanes, have been left to fend for themselves in the bush, were tied up, given little food, kept for breeding, dumped because they are unwanted, beat, and one most likely because she has such a sweet disposition, she was used as bait for dog fighting. Over the years living on St. Croix, we've fostered and adopted at least 100 dogs. Some we've spent years providing love and affection to in order to give them enough security to live whole-lives. 

Most recently, our foster dog, Katniss Everdeen has exhibited a profound change. She has come out of her shell. She has shown us that she trusts us, that she feels secure enough to risk being rejected by us, being attacked by our other dogs, and just today, she zoomed three times in a row because she could actually go outside and not fear the wind; the sound of a leaf being blown across the driveway; me as I raised my hand, not to hit her, but simply to brush back a stray lock of hair. Today, this usually terrified dog brushed by me as I picked up a mop to clean up her pee! And she had no fear. 

This girl has learned trust, security, affection and love. If Kat, our scardy-cat, can do it, why can't we?