Yesterday I visited Bill at his place and took him out to lunch for his birthday. On the way back, we stopped off at the Prescott humane society to say HI to the dogs. This is always a dangerous thing, emotionally and because we can’t have more dogs at this time. Iit’s hard not to bring someone, actually, everyone home. Some dogs are fine with their plight, others break your heart with their overwhelming sadness and confusion, and some just make the best of the situation.
The shelter has many mazes of hallways where the dogs are kept. We wandered about greeting each dog, letting them sniff our hands and lending counsel to some. After a while, the hallways felt like the house of mirrors ride at the amusement park, leaving me a little dizzy. We headed down one hallway and saw an unusual sight. Bill was on it immediately throwing his hands in the air and laughing. It took me longer to take in the scene, probably from the confusion of the hallways. There in front of us was a white dog of indiscriminate breed wearing a head cone. The part of his head not coned-in was submerged in a large knocked-over box overflowing with big dog biscuits. There were biscuits on the floor everywhere and he seemed quite pleased with himself, chewing away. My mood of sadness and helplessness quickly turned to wild laughter.
What a great message that whatever your situation, stop to find or knock over the joy and sieze the opportunity to feel it!
After we grabbed for a not-too-pleased shelter worker the poor dog was dragged back into his cage. She explained that he probably used his cone to flip the handle on the door and escape. He used his condition!
We went by his cage and he was clearly pouting. We took him away from nirvana. I’d be pretty pissed also.