in honor of heroes
Today, May 20, 2022, is National Rescue Dog Day, and I cannot think of anything I’d find more delightful to celebrate.
Following her own abandonment and homelessness, my Maisie Moon came into my life a little over four years ago. She is, without question, perennial sunshine breaking through the often gray and dreary Northwest skies. She is brilliant and beautiful, and I don’t know where my life would be now without her. So much has happened in that time—events I can’t change but wish I could, memories I can’t un-remember. Some of them have made me stronger; some have left scars that no miracle cream will ever erase. Yet I’m still standing, still smiling, still muttering scenes and dialogue to myself as my fingertips sweep over my keyboard every day. During every up, every down, Maisie has been right here at my side, writing into my life a story of tears, laughter, tummy rubs, and cheese addiction, tales that I’ve lovingly detailed in my second memoir. The book is due out early next year, and I hope, through its anecdotes and photographs, you’ll come to know this amazing German shepherd-beagle as I have. But today isn’t about promotion. It’s about the dogs: mine, yours, the desperate furry souls wishing the right people might glimpse their pleading eyes and take them home. Maybe on this very occasion.
I am regularly reminded of the grim statistics pertaining to homeless and sheltered dogs, but, on this occasion, I can’t help also reflecting on the lucky ones. According to the ASPCA, two million dogs are adopted from US shelters every year. In this country, the average American household is made up of three people, three individuals whose lives have been uniquely touched by the family dog. That’s six million people who have lowered their blood pressure while stroking velvety ears and squirming bellies, six million people who have felt safer in their homes ever since the installation of their trusty Bark Alarms, six million people who have found playmates, exercise buddies, live-in jesters, and confidantes who never let them down or betray their secrets. These two million dogs are called rescues because good people intervened to give them a chance at a better life, good people made them part of their families. But, dog lovers, we know the score. We know who the real heroes are. Mine is curled up next to me in her bright red bandana.
So, take some time out this weekend to honor these heroes. Head to the park, toss a frisbee, sport matching tropical togs, if you like, or fire up the barbecue—only, don’t forget to share with your fiercely loyal furry friend. And if your own home is no longer illuminated by a broad grin and a waggly tail, maybe now is the right time to open your heart again. Somewhere out there is a hopeful dog who has already opened his.
