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.