Some Comfort - Pia Salk
An offering that might perhaps provide some comfort….
For me, much of the comfort I crave these days comes from my 2 ‘Katrina’ dogs- a term that has come to be like a brand name for the newest, chicest trend in animal welfare.
I am so full of love for these creatures, it is unimaginable. There is Luna, the feral one who was so traumatized upon her arrival at Lamar Dixon I had never seen such a site- her eyes filled with puss, deemed aggressive for snapping at the catchpole and essentially doomed because of her spirit to live. And there is Sweetie, the little skeleton pit bull my friend Megan and I had rescued from a porch in the Upper 9th ward. Upon her rescue, she crawled right passed the food we put out for her and into my lap. She was starving when we found her but craved human touch and comfort more than the food. She just sat still in my lap with her face pressed up against mine for the longest time. It was on a day that we were not supposed to bring animals back to LD because they were full and would only take criticals. This was critical in our book.
As for Luna, she has transformed me. The moment I set eyes on her a switch flipped and I silently conveyed to her that I had her covered. In the days at Lamar Dixon, I would often sneak off to sit with her and try to get her eating from my hand- my only real respite in the time spent there.
After I jumped through the bureaucratic hoops and got her cage tagged for adoption I felt relieved, only to I turn around one day and find she had been loaded on a transport to a public shelter in Iowa. I was livid and that was the first moment in my initial weeks there that I said, ‘no more, I can’t do it anymore.’ But, like so many of you, I found a way and kept on with the work. I frantically contacted the shelter in Iowa and was able to have her shipped to me in LA when I returned. I set her up in her own room where she would not leave her crate while I was around for over 3 months. She would eat out of my hand occasionally but that was it. If she heard a sudden noise she would literally try to climb the walls like a wild animal as if attempting to escape for her life. My vet and others confirmed that she was feral and they were dubious about her ability to become less fearful. I was torn about how best to care for her. I would fill the room with the smell of lavender, as it’s supposed to be calming. I bought a CD with calming music specifically for animals and I would sometimes nap on the floor by her crate to convey some sense that I would be vulnerable near her and she could trust me. I became a flower child momentarily.
There seemed to be little change as the time passed, but I then began to notice the subtle things- like her tail was now strait down and not between her legs. Her ears were different- they seemed to square off her little Labrador head and not be angled downward. And I’ll never forget seeing her sleep deeply for the first time- that really got me. I sobbed quietly as I witnessed her get what was likely the first restful, deep sleep she may have ever had. And to think she allowed herself to let go enough to do so in my presence.
So I became grateful for the little changes and I let her know that whatever she did was OK. A few months after having Luna, Sweetie, the pit bull was now joining us.
She was transported to me from my new friend Adrianne’s care. Adrianne had taken her from Lamar Dixon with a lot of other special needs pups. I couldn’t get her off of my mind so I called to adopt her. She was driven across country by the help of 2 people I had never met who answered the call and another friend who had wanted so to help but had not been able to go to N.O. herself. I feel much gratitude towards all of them!
When she arrived she was a playful bundle of love. She came complete with heartworm, home crafted clipped ears and what looked like the udders of a cow- the result of many litters. Sweetie and I would roll and play as Luna watched quietly from her crate- which I had now opened so it was only a ½ crate she would sit in. I watched her, wondering what she thought of this- and then it was almost as if the switch now flipped in her. Her tail began to wag for about a second at a time. I sent word out to all of my friends- alerting them to this news! I was ecstatic! The emails I had been sending were typically one liners- “Luna ate from my hand today,” “Luna took a nap in front of me.” Now they were, “Luna wagged her tail today!!!!!,” “Luna licked my hand,” “Luna jumped on to the couch with me!!!!” It was thrilling.
This was a dog who, likely never been touched by a human hand prior to Katrina and so traumatized by her capture, had decided to step outside of what she knew- to take a huge risk and to trust me. What a gift! And one that I thank her for each day. She taught me so much- patience- acceptance- true kinship. I had surrendered to her- deciding I would likely never really get to pet her or kiss her little black muzzle. I accepted that we would live together in kinship- not needing anything from each other. Just sharing space and an occasional glance. But as I accepted this, she gave me so much more- a miracle of sorts.
Now she runs and plays and rolls over so I can bury my face in her tummy. She licks my face and wags her whole body. We take naps on the couch either spooning each other or fully entwined with Sweetie, and all with our faces pressed up against each other. I look at these guys when they are sleeping and wonder what they went through- what they saw- how they felt- and I am thankful that they are here with me now- and safe. The love I feel for them is so very pure -and I share this with you all simply because I want to share something with you- something that might uplift you for a moment. Something that speaks to the kinship we need to cultivate with each other- a kinship born of pure love and respect- the kind of love that needs nothing in return.
It is one of you who rescued Luna. I may have met you, I may not have. It need not matter as we each play a roll in this collective. But I deeply thank you for the role you have chosen and I re-commit to mine.
In Kinship,
Pia
For me, much of the comfort I crave these days comes from my 2 ‘Katrina’ dogs- a term that has come to be like a brand name for the newest, chicest trend in animal welfare.
I am so full of love for these creatures, it is unimaginable. There is Luna, the feral one who was so traumatized upon her arrival at Lamar Dixon I had never seen such a site- her eyes filled with puss, deemed aggressive for snapping at the catchpole and essentially doomed because of her spirit to live. And there is Sweetie, the little skeleton pit bull my friend Megan and I had rescued from a porch in the Upper 9th ward. Upon her rescue, she crawled right passed the food we put out for her and into my lap. She was starving when we found her but craved human touch and comfort more than the food. She just sat still in my lap with her face pressed up against mine for the longest time. It was on a day that we were not supposed to bring animals back to LD because they were full and would only take criticals. This was critical in our book.
As for Luna, she has transformed me. The moment I set eyes on her a switch flipped and I silently conveyed to her that I had her covered. In the days at Lamar Dixon, I would often sneak off to sit with her and try to get her eating from my hand- my only real respite in the time spent there.
After I jumped through the bureaucratic hoops and got her cage tagged for adoption I felt relieved, only to I turn around one day and find she had been loaded on a transport to a public shelter in Iowa. I was livid and that was the first moment in my initial weeks there that I said, ‘no more, I can’t do it anymore.’ But, like so many of you, I found a way and kept on with the work. I frantically contacted the shelter in Iowa and was able to have her shipped to me in LA when I returned. I set her up in her own room where she would not leave her crate while I was around for over 3 months. She would eat out of my hand occasionally but that was it. If she heard a sudden noise she would literally try to climb the walls like a wild animal as if attempting to escape for her life. My vet and others confirmed that she was feral and they were dubious about her ability to become less fearful. I was torn about how best to care for her. I would fill the room with the smell of lavender, as it’s supposed to be calming. I bought a CD with calming music specifically for animals and I would sometimes nap on the floor by her crate to convey some sense that I would be vulnerable near her and she could trust me. I became a flower child momentarily.
There seemed to be little change as the time passed, but I then began to notice the subtle things- like her tail was now strait down and not between her legs. Her ears were different- they seemed to square off her little Labrador head and not be angled downward. And I’ll never forget seeing her sleep deeply for the first time- that really got me. I sobbed quietly as I witnessed her get what was likely the first restful, deep sleep she may have ever had. And to think she allowed herself to let go enough to do so in my presence.
So I became grateful for the little changes and I let her know that whatever she did was OK. A few months after having Luna, Sweetie, the pit bull was now joining us.
She was transported to me from my new friend Adrianne’s care. Adrianne had taken her from Lamar Dixon with a lot of other special needs pups. I couldn’t get her off of my mind so I called to adopt her. She was driven across country by the help of 2 people I had never met who answered the call and another friend who had wanted so to help but had not been able to go to N.O. herself. I feel much gratitude towards all of them!
When she arrived she was a playful bundle of love. She came complete with heartworm, home crafted clipped ears and what looked like the udders of a cow- the result of many litters. Sweetie and I would roll and play as Luna watched quietly from her crate- which I had now opened so it was only a ½ crate she would sit in. I watched her, wondering what she thought of this- and then it was almost as if the switch now flipped in her. Her tail began to wag for about a second at a time. I sent word out to all of my friends- alerting them to this news! I was ecstatic! The emails I had been sending were typically one liners- “Luna ate from my hand today,” “Luna took a nap in front of me.” Now they were, “Luna wagged her tail today!!!!!,” “Luna licked my hand,” “Luna jumped on to the couch with me!!!!” It was thrilling.
This was a dog who, likely never been touched by a human hand prior to Katrina and so traumatized by her capture, had decided to step outside of what she knew- to take a huge risk and to trust me. What a gift! And one that I thank her for each day. She taught me so much- patience- acceptance- true kinship. I had surrendered to her- deciding I would likely never really get to pet her or kiss her little black muzzle. I accepted that we would live together in kinship- not needing anything from each other. Just sharing space and an occasional glance. But as I accepted this, she gave me so much more- a miracle of sorts.
Now she runs and plays and rolls over so I can bury my face in her tummy. She licks my face and wags her whole body. We take naps on the couch either spooning each other or fully entwined with Sweetie, and all with our faces pressed up against each other. I look at these guys when they are sleeping and wonder what they went through- what they saw- how they felt- and I am thankful that they are here with me now- and safe. The love I feel for them is so very pure -and I share this with you all simply because I want to share something with you- something that might uplift you for a moment. Something that speaks to the kinship we need to cultivate with each other- a kinship born of pure love and respect- the kind of love that needs nothing in return.
It is one of you who rescued Luna. I may have met you, I may not have. It need not matter as we each play a roll in this collective. But I deeply thank you for the role you have chosen and I re-commit to mine.
In Kinship,
Pia
posted by Rachel H. McKay | 6:43 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home