On innocence, vulnerability, little joys... and persistence.

On innocence, vulnerability, little joys... and persistence.

Hi there!

I haven’t posted anything on this blog recently. Not that I haven’t almost constantly thought about it. I guess the past few weeks have been pretty hectic. I’ve been quite busy with work, which is obviously a good thing, although sadly, long days of teaching tend to  keep me away from my writing.

I have posted a few entries, though, on my Spanish blog manzanairidiscente.blogspot.com. Truth is, I am still working out how to manage the two blogs I created a few months ago, in an attempt to give my yearning and my need to write, a more serious place in my life. So, for lack of a better system, I just go with my gut, basically following any nudges it gives me on what topics I should explore and what  language to express myself in.

So, even though I have a long list of things I want to write about, today I feel like telling you about our new dog, Anita. Last month, I posted an entry on my Spanish blog, which by the way, has been my most popular entry yet, in which I wrote about our dog Alpu’s death and reminisced about the years we got to live with him.

Alpu came into our lives about eight years ago, when my then husband and I found him on our street, all scared and exhausted, and took him in. The vets told us back then he must be around six or seven years old. He was the sweetest; he’d follow me everywhere around the house. Sometimes I would wait as long as I could before going to the toilet, just to avoid moving and waking him from his peaceful sleep.

In recent years, his kidneys started to fail. As a result of that, he began losing weight and his  mind got more and more fuzzy. Last month, after two days during which his health clearly took a turn for the worse, I took him to the vet’s so that he could be put out of his suffering. All in all, I think he had a happy life.

Several  months ago, while we were driving through our neighborhood, my son spotted this veterinary clinic called Adoptando un Corazón Canino (adopting a canine heart), which, on weekends, sets up a little adoption fair of sorts on the sidewalk. It seems like a great idea, it did draw our attention anyway…

Even before Alpu got seriously ill, my son would tell me, with the brutal straightforwardness kids are known for: “Mom, when Alpu dies, I want to adopt a dog from this clinic”. Surely enough, just a few days after Alpu passed away, he began campaigning for us to adopt a new dog.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Although I was positive about wanting a new pet, I didn’t know when the time would be right to adopt. Alpu’s last months had been hard. Since he’d become incontinent, he would pee just about anywhere, and even if in the final weeks, we’d limited his space to the kitchen area, in an attempt at damage control, the floor would need to be cleaned four to five times a day. This was especially tough on my mother, as I am lousy at chores, especially at mopping floors; I just get them all sticky (probably too much detergent) and generally leave them  worse than they were before I tried to clean them.

So, I was kind of worried about what my mother’s reaction would be to the idea of getting a new pet. I stalled as long as I could, but my son was determined. I finally told him we’d tackle that very thorny issue with my mother after we came back from our short trip to Guanajuato.

I am not kidding, he insisted so much that we secretly went to the clinic the day after we came back from our trip. It was a Sunday, so the dogs were strutting their stuff on the sidewalk. A few of them looked promising, but then, we went inside the clinic, where there were more dogs. And there she was. We instantly fell in love with this  sweet, shy-looking dog, with the most beautiful combination of cream and grey fur.

We talked a bit with the person in charge of the clinic; she too seemed to think Anita would be a perfect fit for us. I told myself that the fact that we  shared the same name must be a good sign; some of my friends actually call me Anita (Spanish for Annie).  However, the lady told us we’d have to wait until the following Saturday to bring the required documents to be eligible adopters. She also warned us the rescuer would pay us a visit in our apartment to make sure it would make a suitable home for one of the animals in their care.

That evening, my son finally had THE TALK with his grandmother. He  listed all the reasons why he would be  a stellar owner, even going so far as to promise never to shy away from performing that least pleasant of  duties that come with having a dog,  that is, picking up  their poop from the sidewalk. I think  both he and I were a bit taken aback by how readily my mom agreed to welcome a new pet into our home.

Needless to say it was a long week and my son wasn’t the only one feeling  nervous about whether we’d get to keep Anita or not. Trying to calm him (and myself) down, I called the clinic on Wednesday, just to make sure that she hadn’t been adopted yet. It was definitely a relief  to know that she was still at the clinic.

When Saturday finally came, we drove to the clinic, where we met the rescuer. As it turns out, not only does she know our pets’ vet, but she works in close partnership with him, in her efforts to find good homes for disadvantaged dogs and cats. I guess she felt confident enough that we would be a good family for Anita because she asked us right off the bat when we’d be ready to take her home with us, actually skipping the first visit. So, the next morning, we picked up our adorable dog from the clinic and brought her home. I knew that first day would be stressful for Anita, as everything around her would be new, and would probably feel scary to her. But she made great progress within the first couple of days.

She’s been with us only one week and already she seems like a different dog. She is still just as sweet, but she has become less shy. The cutest thing is she’ll have these random bouts of high energy, during which she’ll dash down the hallway, or bite into her bed and shake it. I assume it’s just her being happy, finally getting a chance to be playful and carefree.

There’s something so disarming about dogs, especially those that have been through stressful situations. The way they so candidly show their fear, their utter vulnerability and their need for protection... Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve, or in this case, on your fur.

As we grow, and especially upon encountering difficult, sometimes hostile people and situations,  we humans pick up ways to make our fear and helplessness less obvious, so as to seem stronger and more in control than we might feel, even coming close to believing ourselves the show that we put on. But when we see an animal simply “being”, at the mercy of the people around them and experiencing fear so candidly, it is as if by this, they bared our own vulnerability for us to see and feel, with no filter. It is not an easy feeling to hold in one’s chest. We simply feel compelled to step in and help. By soothing the animal, we also soothe the vulnerable parts of ourselves. As I wrote in the post about Alpu’s death,  telling where an animal’s helplessness ends and our own begins can be tricky.

But at the same time, it is heartwarming to see how these little beings that have sometimes undergone so much in their short lives, can nevertheless love and trust again, so easily or at least more readily than most of us can. It’s as if, despite their fear and their defensive reactions to perceived threats, despite the abuse they’ve often endured, the core of their little hearts, in all their kindness and innocence, is unharmed and unchanged.

Meeting and adopting Anita has made me ponder a few things:

 1.  How can we make sure the innocence of those around us, especially the little ones’, is protected? One of the things I appreciate about my job is that it brings me   in contact with children, which, in turn, allows me to bask in the refreshing gaze they so delicately place on the world around them. Thinking about this, a particular student comes to mind. She is one of the triplets I’ve been helping with their English for a couple of years now. Although, the three of them are cute, funny and interesting in their own unique way, in my opinion, she is the one with the sweetest disposition. Very often, she’ll begin the class by asking me: “Teacher, do you know why I am so happy today?”, and she’ll go on to make a list of all the fun and exciting things she will do in the following days, mostly parties, playdates and getting  a new toy. How can we, as grown ups, prevent our children’s natural light from  gradually or brutally being dimmed by the dark forces present all around us, sometimes even inside our most intimate circles? How can we learn to love and accept them just as they are? What can we do to make them feel really  heard and seen?

   

2.  From a deeper point of view though, spending time with my little Anita has made me wonder… Do we really EVER lose our innocence or our natural vocation for joy and amazement? Do adversity, loss and heartbreak really have the power to soil or diminish our essence? According to my experience, the answer is NO. I’ve had my share of sorrow, which to some, would amount to a  trifle, and to a considerable heap to others.  I’ve been in the seemingly bottomless pit of depression, self-deprecation, anxiety, paralyzing fear and hopelesness. And yet… And yet, I realize now that my essence, which is Being in all its pristine  purity, has never been touched.  The hurt and the scars are very real, but they will always be a superficial phenomenon. No matter how terrible and life-altering some experiences might be, we are talking of mere ripples on the surface of the deepest of oceans. Incidentally, my son’s homework assignment for this weekend is to memorize a poem called “The whales” by   French poet Jacques Roubaud. It’s about a storm breaking out over the sea and how, at first, the ocean seems like an endless plain with no shelter in sight. And yet, despite the heavy rain and “the clouds spitting at the waves”, beneath the surface, “the whales go, calm and slow, under their umbrellas”. Beneath the storms of life, lie immutable peace and joy. The more we “make contact” with our real, deepest being, the more its shine spills over into our lives. This light takes everything in. It encompasses loss and pain, and it holds them in its bosom and by doing so, it helps us heal. It’s nothing short of a miracle that a little dog, who according to the rescuer, spent her whole existence in a cage, is capable of  feeling joy and being playful, after  only one day in her new home. It’s nothing short of a miracle that, when lightly nudged in the direction of love, however this may manifest in our lives, we too can blossom again. Seeing Anita for the first time, as well as  other dogs, some of them just a few weeks old, made me wonder at the mysteries that make up the very fabric of life. How can innocence and tenderness, so completely unguarded, be thrown into a world such as ours, where they are so often crushed or destroyed?  And yet, they keep cropping up everywhere. They are born time and time again. What does it mean that such naked vulnerability should exist at all? Are we willing to be helpless enough to let it touch us? Is it really as defenseless and fragile as we think it is? How come deep down, we are all, human and otherwise, wired for love and caring?

3. “Little joys” are really life’s greatest source of happiness… Sure, we all dream of having uniquely wonderful experiences; we all want to make our  mark, to count for something, to know the peaks of all things exquisite life has to offer… And yet… And yet, can anything top feeling like a kid again, anxiously waiting for work to end, just to rush back home to the loveliest, sweetest dog on earth? Does anyone's heart really need anything more to be content with life?

  

4.   And last but not least, never underestimate the power of persistence. Come rain or come shine, go after what you want, you’ll end up getting it. Just ask my son…

What about you? Where do you see innocence? Have you been in touch with your vocation for joy and love lately? What makes you blossom?


Find me on Instagram: manzana_iridiscente12

Or write to me at: theiridescentapple.blogspot.com

Feel free to share this post if you think someone you know might enjoy it.

If you like reading in Spanish, you might like my blog manzanairidiscente.blogspot.com, where I share different stories.