Reflections
In The
P. S. Gifford
© Copyright 2004 by P. S. Gifford |
It is precisely 7:39 on a glorious September Monday
morning. I am casually sitting
peacefully in
my “secret garden”. Although not large in area it has a
surprising old world
charm contained within
its three ivy covered walls. It is with delight and awe that I
marvel at a pair of delicate brightly colored
humming birds eagerly feeding in the blooms
high
above my head. This is my slice of paradise.
Whilst I take another hearty sip from my steaming mug
of fresh brewed coffee. The
aroma and taste
only enhancing my senses. Making me even more acutely aware of my
glorious surrounding. I can not resist but to smile
to myself.
Suddenly I feel a gentle paw vying for my attention
and as my hand reaches down to
scratch
affectionately my dog Chester, lying contented at my feet. I cannot
but consider
just how far we have journeyed
together. As I daydream in the glorious morning sun, I
am
commencing to recollect the very first unwieldy steps of that
intrepid journey….
I reminisce back to July 2002. A little over two
years ago to the eventful day I received
an
email. The correspondence came from my brother-in-law, Dwight, who
just so
happens to be one of the dearest men
on the entire planet.
“You have to see this dog!”
The subject line teasingly read…Instantly I was hooked.
I already belonged to two dogs at the time…A
third I would not recommend to anyone.
However,
my long time companion, Eddie Valentino, was in his sixteenth
magnificent
year. Despite me not caring to
admit it to myself. Everyone recognized that his time here
on
Earth was all too quickly diminishing.
Opening the email, I could not fail to grin…
The image of a fresh faced puppy .The
young
dog had a striking familiarity about him, looking an awful lot like a
downsized
version of my very own Eddie. My
heart skipped.
Quickly reading on I discovered that he was under the
care of animal services, I was
torn…I
knew that my beloved wife, Sarah, would never go for having a third
dog.
Particularly a mischievous puppy.
Having dismissed the idea as futile, I attempted with
much distraction to go about my
usual daily
tasks. Yet, I was unable to concentrate. The image of that poor dog
within his
“cell” kept repeating
in my mind.
As the afternoon started to fade, I came to a
decision that what harm would it be to go
visit
him in person. My mind clearly made up I hastily threw on my shoes,
grabbed my
car keys and sped towards the
kennels. Fifteen minutes later I was rushing around the
cages, looking longingly for the face that had
captured my heart. Another twenty minutes
or
so passed. I had examined each cage. With no success. I was about to
give up.
Reasoning that some lucky soul had
already arrived to his rescue. However, I needed to
check….
I spied one of the workers cleaning a kennel and
cautiously approached him. He greeted
me with
a friendly smile and hello. I quickly blurted that I was here to see
the Airedale
terrier mix.
The workers eyes seemed to light up.
“He is back here!” He exclaimed.
I was quickly lead away from the cages on display,
passed an ‘Employees only’ sign to
three
cages.
“Here he is!” He points to one of the cages.
I peered in. Hiding in the back corner of the cage
there he was, snuggled up in a ball.
Two sad
eyes looked back at me!!!
“I want to visit with him,” I told the
worker. I was trying to conceal my growing
excitement….His
smile made me realize I was making the right decision!
A few minutes later we were together. Playing in the
visiting area. The first thing I
noticed
about him was his highly nervous disposition; I swear that he would
have
jumped even at his own shadow. I managed
to finally hold him in my arms…Feeling his
racing
heartbeat against my chest….Within a matter of moments the
racing pulse seemed
to slow down…It
was at this instant in time he licked my cheek…My mind was
made
up.
“I’ll take him!” I announced jubilantly.
So there I was at the service window completing the
paperwork, writing the check. All
the while a
little voice in the back of my head was screaming at me…
“Sarah is going to bloody kill you!”
The lady behind the counter seemed delighted that I
was taking him. She informed me
that I was
about to be this dog’s third owner, and the dog was only seven
months old.
That he had been dropped off at
the pound as a puppy and that a family had taken him
home.
Returning him a couple of months later….Declaring that he was
too much to
handle. That he barked all the
time, was impossible to take for walks, and was highly
destructive…
She looked at me solemnly. Her following words made
me fully aware that I was making
the right
decision. She told me that he had been red tagged. That he had been
deemed as
too uncontrollable to be
socialized. That he had been scheduled for destroying.
As my new hyperactive companion was in my car,
heading back to his new home ,I
realized that
I had to inform my wife. It was on my fifth attempt of dialing that I
actually
mustered enough courage to actually
complete the phone call….
“Where are you?” She enquired, nonchalantly.
“On the way back from Animal care services.” I cautiously replied.
“Oh?” she remarked. The alarms evidently beginning to ring in her head.
“y y yyes….” I mumbled “And I have found the cutest little dog…”
There was a pause for what seemed to be like an hour,
but was probably only about
thirty seconds…
“And?” She finally pushed.
“Well”…I gulped…..”Can we have him?”
Another hour-long pause.
Chester barked in the back seat of the car. I tried to hush him, with little success
“Do whatever you need to do” She answered…. Evidently resigning herself to her fate.
“I love you” I interjected.
“I love you too.” Came her strained
answer. Yet I could tell that she was irate at me. I
knew
that she knew that I already had the dog.
As I hung up the phone, I remember considering to myself.
“Well, that could have been much worse!”
*****
The following few months were admittedly quite
interesting…..Destruction, barking
through
the night all ensued.
I quickly ascertained that this dog had been
subjected to heavy abuse; both physical and
mental….His
aversion to anyone in a baseball cap was profound. Any type of long
stick,
rod or water hose sent him shivering
and hiding…I often doubted what I was doing as I
spent
another sleepless entire night lying next to him, attempting to
comfort him. Even
my closest friends and
family joked that the dog was a lost cause. That I should simply
throw in my hat and surrender him back. Yet,
something deep inside of me simply would
not
permit it. Even my wife and I argued over it….In fact the
biggest argument we ever
had was over
Chester.
“If he goes…So do I” I used to stubbornly proclaim.
Here is the thing though. Something slowly and
magically was beginning to transform
within
him. Step by step he started to learn trust. Confidence he had never
felt before. A
connection was starting to
strengthen. Even my dubious friends and family started to
reconsider. As they began to marvel at the antics of
my loyal, loving, well trained friend
Chester.
*****
It is now approaching eight o clock. My coffee cup
has been long drained. Chester is
sitting
next to me, with that perfect posture. I need to go. Go take the best
dog in the
world for his morning walk….
About me? well...Okay, If you insist. I am a
transplanted "Brit" living my slice of the American dream
in sunny California. I am 39 years old.Incredibly happily married,
and father to an eleven year old son.....In my younger days I had
some minor success with this writing thing.Then life decided to
get in the way of any dreams or ambitions that it held for me. The
next twenty years was spent in the fast paced restaurant business.Two
years ago , my life was dramatically
changed,I suffered an injury on the job to my back and right
shoulder. This actually turned
out to be a blessing in disguise, becauuse I went from working
all the hours in the week to being a
house husband.Life has never been better. A few months ago I decided
to start to write for a couple of hours
daily. Just to entertain myself and a few freinds and family.
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