There Can Never Be Too Much Love

“Yes, I’m adopted. My folks were not blessed with me in the usual way. But they picked me, they chose me, from all the rest, which is lots more than most kids can say.” ~ Shel Silverstein, Every Thing on It

G has been depressed lately.  I often find her staring off into space, and when I ask her how things are going with her, she tells me that she feels sad “for no reason.”  I get worried that she might have inherited my dour disposition.

As a result, I have been thinking a lot about adopting.  I just have not decided if I will adopt another child, or perhaps rescue a dog.  I know, I know.  A child and a pet do not compare, but both will require love and attention.

Isn’t love the antidote to depression?  I feel for G, living her childhood with just me, and growing up without ever knowing what it is like to have siblings or even a pet to love and bond with her.  Because she is an only child and only has me to talk to all the time outside of school, I feel as though she is mature beyond her years, and has skipped much of the innocence and playfulness of childhood.

If we had another child with us, someone she could grow up with, bond with and love, she might not feel sad anymore.  I had little time to feel sad when I was growing up because I was too busy playing with, bonding with, and even fighting with my siblings.  I want the same for G.

I am also open to rescuing a dog.  She loves dogs as much as I do, and it is proven that pets do wonders for one’s health and emotional being.

Whether I decide to adopt another child or rescue a dog, both will add to my already stressful and hectic lifestyle.  But I am willing to endure whatever additional hardship it will bring to my life because I know that love is always worth it.

Wolf Love

It has been a rough few weeks, and I’ve come so close to just throwing in the towel. I’ve worked so hard for everything in my life, and in these past few weeks, I have felt as though I have sunk to an all-time low.

I have been inconsolable, and have been trying to burn off negative energy by spending most of my free time at the gym. With my already busy schedule and increased depressed state, I have been neglecting my wolf.

She has been whining and whimpering incessantly. I check to make sure she has food and water, and I regularly take her outside to make sure she gets exercise. After I’ve gone through my mental checklist of what could be wrong with her, she still whines. I get annoyed and usher her away or yell at her to shut up.

She is relentless, though, and despite my repeated reprimands, she comes even closer, sits in front of me, and whines. Non-stop.

It was 7:30 this morning, and I was already running a bit late. As I am getting dressed, she comes into my room, and starts whining. I had just checked her food and water bowls, and we already had our long morning walk.

“What is it now?” I ask her, frustrated and about to cry.

She whines a response.

I was about to yell at her again to leave me alone and let me get ready to go to work, when I catch myself.

“Come here,” I say gently.

She moves towards me and nuzzles her nose into my neck. I sit on the floor with her for a few minutes, and we lock eyes. At that moment, there was no time deadline more important than me spending a few minutes with my beloved wolf.

“I’m sorry,” I say, as I run my fingers through her fur. “I know I’ve been neglecting you. Tonight, when I get home from work, it’s just gonna be you and me, kid. Just like the old days.”

After a few more kisses, she seems satisfied. She jumps on the bed and lies down. She stops whining.

All she had wanted this whole time was just a little love and attention. I had been so busy nursing my own emotions that I had completely forgotten that even wolves need love too.

“Wolf is the Grand Teacher. Wolf is the sage, who after many winters upon the sacred path and seeking the ways of wisdom, returns to share new knowledge with the tribe. Wolf is both the radical and the traditional in the same breath. When the Wolf walks by you – you will remember.” ~ Robert Ghost Wolf

Take My Puppy!

There’s nothing unusual about seeing drunks walk around aimlessly at 6:00 in the morning here in New York. In fact, I’ve found that it’s actually quite a normal thing to see around here. There are, after all, no shortages of after-hours bars that cater to those that want to stay obliterated past the 4:00 a.m. closing of the regular bars. I’ve actually found that the streets are quite dangerous between the hours of 5:30 a.m. and 7:00 a.m., as all the drunks are either drunkenly driving home or walking (staggering) home as night turns into day.

So, there seemed nothing out of the ordinary this morning for me as I was jogging through my neighborhood and I saw a man stumbling through the streets. He was yelling incomprehensibly to everyone and no one, but I just ignored him and kept on jogging.

However, on my jog back home, I saw that the drunk man had stopped and was yelling at an old Mexican man with a little puppy. As I jogged towards them, I strained to hear what was being said.

“Give me your puppy, old man!” the drunk man yelled.

“Please, sir, go away!” the old man pleaded.

“Give me your f*ckin’ puppy! I’ll take your fuckin’ puppy!”

I saw the drunk man step forward and knock the old Mexican man’s sancho hat off his head. As the old man bent down to pick up his hat, I saw the drunk man step closer towards the old man, and it looked like he was going to kick the old man in the head.

In fear that something bad would happen and without thinking, I yelled,”What the hell is going on here?!”

“Who the f*ck are you, you little chink b*tch?” yelled the drunk man.

“I’m the b*tch that’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t leave this man alone,” I said calmly, and with much more confidence than I felt.

I’m not sure why, but the drunken man started to walk away. Perhaps it was my intimidating 4’11 frame. Or more possibly, the fact that I had my wolf with me frightened him away.

“Here, mister! You want a puppy?! Take mine!”

Window Woman

So, I’m minding my own business the other night, walking my dog down the block for her nightly exercise, when a woman opens her window, sticks her head outside, and starts yelling, “Hey! Do me a favor and walk your dog on another block! I don’t like dogs hanging around outside the house.”

As I ignore her, and almost on cue, my dog squats down to relieve her bladder.

“Oh, thank God, she’s only peeing, and not taking a sh*t,” I thought to myself.

“Now, see! That’s not nice! Pick that up!” the woman in the window yells.

“Do you have a rag I could borrow?” I ask her, “because she took a piss and it’s kinda hard for me to pick that up.”

“Oh. Well, just next time, walk her down the other block, would ya?”

“Whateverrrr,” I retorted.

The next morning, I walk my dog down the block, as I normally do. Out of spite, I loiter around the curb in front of the window woman’s house. Ever loyal to my wishes, my dog does her thing right there, for which I praise her loudly (and so that window woman could hear me), “Good girl!”

Like a responsible dog owner, and consistent with what I always do, I cleaned up after my dog.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the curtains ruffle in the woman’s window. She didn’t open her window, although I was secretly hoping she would.

I wanted to let her know that no one, not even she, can tell me where I can and cannot walk my dog. It’s my neighborhood and my block, too. I’m a responsible dog owner, and I take pride in my block. I refuse to walk down another block just because she doesn’t like dogs hanging around outside her house.

And more importantly, I just wanted to let her know, in my own, silent, way, “Don’t.f*”