Guess I found another sacred space. It may be loud and a little stinky, but it's full of furry, little lovers. I go to visit them almost every day. I fall asleep thinking of these guys and wake up excited knowing I get to see them again. Oh, the hours I've spent loving them :)
I have been volunteering at the dog pound for a few weeks now. This surprises some people considering what I witnessed on my first day of training. I watched as the guy who was teaching me the procedure to walk the dogs got his hand suddenly and severely chewed by a chow chow (no pun intended). Blood squirted everywhere as he screamed fuck! fuck! My teacher fled to the emergency room for stitches and I haven't seen him since. I hear his hand is still healing.
Regardless of that drama (which I believe was a valuable lesson in responsible dog handling), I've kept my heart open to these guys. They are so desperate for human contact, physical touch and quiet moments together. But I use protection--a pair of leather gloves, at least until I get to know the dog better.
This has been my best idea yet. Call it free therapy. Sitting in the California sunshine playing with Rover, then having him snuggle into you and lie down on your lap...OHHHHH. Ecstasy! I like taking the nervous guys (often shaky little chihuahuas), holding them tight against my chest and feeling their shaking bodies finally relax. It's then that they start making eye contact and often try to grab a kiss.
I feed them some treats, then pet them and scratch their bellies if they want. It feels just as good for me as it does for them. I fall in love with a new dog practically every visit. And by now I must have 20 lovers. But what the hell. The more the merrier. I've got enough love to go around.
I'm happy.
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