Part 3: This is it.

What does this have to do with what I am supposed to do? I kept thinking, “I love to work with dogs,” and “ I love to serve people”. HOWEVER, the serving people is more a “brain-work” serving not a “do something for” serving. I love teaching, I loved being an EMT-I, I love organizing, I hated being a waitress.

How do those things work together? Oh yeah, I always wanted to try “therapy dog” work. Except for Tiger, I never had the dog that could do it. Where I lived with Tiger, there was no therapy dog organization and I just didn’t know how to go about forming one. NOW, I finally had the time to organize one. NOW, I had the dog that could do it: the accidental mutt, Leala. NOW, must be the time to pursue this.

I started research. YES, my new home town does have a therapy dog organization. I was psyched! For two weeks, I tried to make contact. No one had their phone number, my emails went unanswered (turns out the web-person’s mother died that week). I was getting frustrated. I called the sponsoring national organization. I called a certifying 80 miles away. I staggered….maybe this wasn’t it.

Then the thought struck me: I had never had Leala out anywhere except the vet. When we got her, she was terrified of her own shadow. Although she was confident at home, I had no idea how she would react to people in new places. Except for the vet, I had only seen her run from people.

Time to load up and go to Petsmart. Within 30 minutes of the thought, I was at Petsmart with Leala on a Sunday afternoon. It was adoption weekend and the place was in chaos. Leala, terrified of riding in cars, jumped out of the car to see hordes of people. I was intentionally “throwing her in”. I knew therapy dogs had to have a hardy mental constitution.
Leala loved it. People petted her, loved on her, gave her treats. She thought it was the greatest. I walked out the door of Petsmart even more frustrated. HOW could I contact the pet therapy group?

As I was leaving, a friend of mine, Michelle, who was working the adoption day, saw me and stopped me to say, hi. I introduced her to Leala and told her that I wanted to certify her as a therapy dog but couldn’t contact the group. Michelle smiled and pointed to a lady with a HUGE dog: Joan and Bella. Within a minute, I was on my way to signing up for the once a year training class which started the next week…good, I mean God timing.

Leala has been to two classes and absolutely loves them. Of course I think she is the best dog in the class. She is undisputedly an easy student.
It was time to test my own merit. I did my first tag-a-long. I went with Joan and Bella to a local Mental Health facility. I decided if I really wanted to jump in, this would be the place. I would sink or swim. I was expecting some personal apprehension as I had never been in a Mental Health facility. I was a little surprised when I found myself feeling perfectly at home…hmmm, that’s an interesting personal revelation.

This certainly seems like where I am to be. I got the right dog, I was at the right place at the right time, I am very comfortable and excited about it. If I am wrong, I can’t wait to see what God may have that is even better!

Part 2: DOG Depend On God

Spinning my wheels, I tried focusing on what is it that I should/want to do..? My core function has ALWAYS been involved with animals. My science, my art, my hobbies….everything. When I drive down the road, I don’t look at people’s clothing, their homes or landscaping, I look for animals: birds, squirrels, dogs, cows, donkeys, vultures, horses, even road-kill….God made me that way. It may have been easier to focus on “girl stuff” but “my stuff” has always been critters. Call me Eli Mae.

So I was playing the guessing game with God. What is it that you want me to do? I have tried critter-work and it was never satisfying. Through experience, I have developed various degrees of distaste for events like dog training, dog grooming, dog breeding, dog and horse shows, fish raising, bird raising and other commercial or pseudo commercial ventures. I never had a desire to raise critters to eat. I would rather eat tofu.

So What? What else? Okay, personal inventory. I want world peace. I like people. Hmmm, maybe there is something dealing with people I should do? Teach…been there doing that in various forms, don’t want to go deeper. Visitor Center? Okay, but relatively boring. WHAT????

People and horses? Love to ride and hug my horses: too expensive to dive deeper right now.

Okay, I have dogs, so what? I can throw them in the back of the car and do something, maybe? What? Inventory dogs: one hyper, slightly schizoid Labrador, not good for much but retrieving a shredded basketball. One ancient grumpy Jack Russell, need to keep her under wraps. One Jack Russell—may or may not want to work with me. Finally, there is Leala, the accidental dog.

Leala was a terrified mangy mongrel when we first saw her. I didn’t even want to catch her for fear of contamination. She slinked around the roads for two weeks before a caring lady caught her and treated for ticks, fleas, mange…all those wonderful things strays live acquire. The stray mongrel’s eyes haunted me. Something made me call Chris and offer to take the mutt after she treated her.

For the next six months, I just let Leala get used to being loved. For a long time, any time we tried to put any pressure on her, she froze. I never saw one iota of aggression, just submissive fear. After six months of hanging with my other dogs, Leala was according to the vet’s unsolicited comment, “A good dog.” A vet knows the difference between a good dog and a bad dog.
In her inward growing, she also became quite a beautiful dog. Golden coat with white markings and just enough fluff to feel soft, but not get tangled. She is always obedient, gentle and kind spirited. Something kindred to our deceased “once in a lifetime Labrador”, Tiger.

Leala was a dog who just showed up, one with whom we accidentally became acquainted.

Part 1: Lost in New Space

Destiny has been on my mind lately. Unfortunately, I am one of those folks who Destiny needs to bop on the head with a two by four for me to notice. Even then sometimes, I am not sure of what I see.

I have moved more than 30 times and most of those were to different locations in different states. I have learned to fit in quickly before opportunity passes. I no doubt have let panic guide my decisions, more than once.

In the midst of my self-created chaos, I have learned that if I seek God, he always shows up and offers peace in my heart.

This last move really threw me a kilter. Within weeks, we found a wonderful God serving church where we all felt comfortable. As usual, I started volunteering to serve. Volunteering has been my most successful method to integrate into a new community. I was totally frustrated and infinitely confused when I found it impossible to find steady volunteer work at my new beloved church. Conversely, my hubby who rarely has time to do church-work quickly found himself nearly stretched too thinly at our new place of worship.

So what was going on? I knew my church was God-loving-serving-worship and I felt like it is the most mature church I have ever attended. I know that I am spiritually more mature than ever. Why was I not meshing with the cogs of this new church? I wanted to serve there. I signed up for numerous jobs, but I was not able to do a thing except lend an occasional helping hand.

My mind toyed with rejection but I knew that was not the case. This was a church of God loving people. Even those who they “don’t like” are liked…if you know what I mean. My only conclusion was that God has other plans for me.

Maybe I have come to the place where God wants me out in the community with the church as my refuge. So I wondered what?