Who
Saved Who
That
is imprinted on a bumper sticker I saw a few days ago. The sticker is an image
of a dog's paw.
My
dog, Jesse, saved me a year ago. Literally saved me…I did not save her or
rescue her from a canine life of misery. I soon learned that after a month.
During those welcomed four weeks I was no longer in the bosom of depression. I
recall how difficult it was for me to get out of the bed. Even, eating was a
challenge which has always been an activity that I have passionately relished
when I have been at my lowest emotionally,
Nothing
like a Yeah Burger when
you are swimming upstream…wondering when life will pay off. Throughout this
brief period of hopelessness, I did not resort to pleading and lying to God. We
fail to admit it, but we lie to God all the time…lying to God is nothing more
or less than lying to yourself! And, my recent adapted assessment of Jesus
Christ proved to be insufficient. Nothing worked until Jesse came into my life
which further increased my God aberration…My inquisitive and respectable Rage Against God,
Jesse
has been with me for a year now. My gracious and super sexy friend Bianca found
her in an abandoned foreclosed home. Jesse and her sister were in the steaming
hot garage without food and water.
Unlike
most human beginnings, Jesse’s initial days on this God-forsaken earth were
excessively tough, heartbreaking, and traumatic beyond measure.
Immediately,
upon meeting Jesse and hearing Bianca relive Jesse’s tragic abandonment story,
I like so many 30 and 40 year olds decided to Save a Dog. Unbeknownst to me, I had no idea that rescuing a dog in the 21st
century is the latest urbanite vogue – and trendy sob story that could possibly
get me laid…
But,
something else was in store for me. My life in all of its complexity was about
to change forever,
Jesse
is safe. She has a permanent home. Well, she does if she stops destroying my
furniture! Just yesterday, she ripped up my sofa cushions,
A
few days before that she literally chewed through my mattress box spring. I did
not send her to the dog pound…I still have her…after repeatedly threatening to
give her away.
Parting
with Jesse is something I cannot do…will not do. She has been loyal even after
I crate her during my less…very less frequent nights of entertainment (Jesse
gets more of my time than any other female, by the way). Nothing…nobody but my boys
will hinder me from reciprocating the love and devotion Jesse has provided.
I
needed Jesse last year in June. Life was cruelly tossing me around...no job...no
money...no health insurance…no consistent means to support my children. So,
when I saw the bumper sticker it hit me; I remembered that I did not save Jesse...She
Saved Me,
Happy Birthday, Jesse!
Touching
