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The Remarkable Rewards Of Risk
By
Camille Olivia Strate |
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Every time I get ready to write something here, I'm always a bit undecided as to what category to put it under. Take this one, for example. Some would say it should go under 'Pets'. Others might suggest it go under 'Motivation'. In the end, I almost always end up in 'Personal Happiness' because....well, these are some of the things that make ME happy...and food for thought to, perhaps, inspire your own. In the end, I don't guess it really matters. So long as folks read and get something out of it, I've done my 'job'.
Anyway, this is a liitle different from my usual meanderings. So much has occurred in the past 7 days, so much that has affected me on soooo many levels. And for those of you who've read some of my other stuff, you'll know what I mean. (and, for those of you who haven't...well, maybe you might like to! To get caught up and all. You know?) So, onto this whole Life-Changing thing....
Three months ago I had to say goodbye to my girl. I'd had her from the time she was SIX HOURS OLD and spent the next 12 years in her company. She was, in every sense of the word, my Hero. She taught me things no 'Two-Legged' ever could. She loved me unconditionally (really!) and she had the Spirit of an angel. She was my whole heart and more. The day I said 'farewell' was without question the worst day of my entire life, and I'm not kidding about that. I knew I had to do it, but that didn't make it any easier. The ensuing months were sheer agony. Especially at first. Every day for the first few weeks seemed as if it were a year. Every time I tried to do anything, there she was, or rather, there was the big, ugly Void that used to be where she was. Even the darling Chella (my cat), try as she might, wasn't able to stop the crying. I just couldn't seem to get over myself.
Of course, as time usually does, little by little I began to laugh again. Little, soft laughter. My appetite started to kick in. I began to get an hour of sleep here and there. I was, albeit slowly, beginning to 'move on'. Don't know if those are the proper words, but they're the only ones that come to mind. Move on. Or get on with it. Or BREATHE again. Whatever you call it, I was doing it. With each passing day I was more amazed at the resilience of my own heart and my ability to actually live through this horrible grief. But, I did.
Then, as 'Fate' would have it, I was cruising around on CraigsList one day and saw an ad that was simply entitled 'HELP'. Now, I'm not usually the hero type. At least I don't think I am. And I sure don't go looking for mountains of trouble to rescue folks from. But this ad just kept 'calling' and, much as I tried to ignore it, just couldn't. Finally, I thought, 'You know, you may as well just read it. It's gonna bug the bejeebers outta you til you do. Just open it and read, knucklehead.' (I was in a particulary goofy mood that day, hence the comical conversation with Self...but I digress...)
When I opened the ad, I was a bit surprised to find a very well-written (and lengthy) piece about a woman who'd found this pitiful dog walking along the side of the freeway up in the Temecula area. Apparently, the dog had been abandoned and was in dire need of food, water and serous medical treatment. His paw, according to her missive, was bloody and missing 2 pads. All that remained was raw flesh and toes that looked like they were about to fall off. Not a pretty picture, indeed. She went on to explain that she really wanted to help this guy, but she just flat didn't have the resources (time OR money) to do so. She'd had him for 2 months. She posted a picture and asked for any help, be it money, care, adoption, ideas, whatever. She sounded pretty desperate. The picture looked even more so. OH NO!
Well, previously I said I don't consider myself 'the hero type'...but when it comes to critters, that's a whole 'nother story. I have this thing with critters. A gift, really. It freaks some people out sometimes, but I don't have any control over it. I know what they're thinking. I don't say that in 'psychic' terms; rather a kind of deep empathy or something. Whatever. So, I have this thing for critters and I'd been without my Raja for 3 months and here's this guy, looking like he's never had a single chance in his life....so I called her. We talked for an hour, me asking a zillion questions, her telling me his story, or what she knew of it. It did NOT sound promising, at least, not for him.
Turns out, she'd brought him to a Vet one time, found out it was going to cost a small fortune to even determine what was going on, and left with antibiotics and some pain meds. She tried her best, but she just didn't have the time to soak and flush and dress that wound every day. And it just kept getting worse. She knew, deep in her heart, she had to either find a home for him or he was going to die. She also knew that if she brought him to a shelter, he'd be dead in less than 48 hours. She just couldn't bring herself to do it. So she posted the ad.
Now, I have to take a detour here, just for the sake of clarity. I'm not a person who takes an animal into my home without considering ALL the consequences. I've had dogs, cats and horses for most of my life. I know what's required and I do NOT take it lightly. They're my kids. In every respect. So, after I hung up the phone I thought...'maybe not a good idea right now, Camille. You have your own medical stuff going on. Money is mighty tight. This is going to cost a BUNCH of money you don't have. What are you thinking????'
In short, my brain was screaming "NO!!!" but my heart would NOT let it go. After consulting my closest 'tribe' of friends/family, I met Buddy, 3 days later. It occurred to me that WHO I am is far more important than the doubts or fears I may experience as my brain tries to justify my actions. In other words, I wasn't going to let logic overrule. I was going ot do what I coach....live my Life according to my deepest passions, and trust the Universe to help with all the rest of the logistics. Now, before you go judging me, let me just say that I wasn't doing this naively. I was well aware of exactly what I was taking on. And I had a plan.
I've been into network marketing for quite some time now. I've made lots of contacts and met some amazing people along the way. I decided that KNOWLEDGE USED is power. And I was about to use it. So, I met the guy, fell in love and took him home. I had this little voice in my head that kept saying 'Raja sent him. Raja sent him. You need him as much as he needs you. Take him home. It's going to be okay.' I listened to that voice. And I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that I did. He is as sweet as he is adorable. He's ill, yes. But not incurable. I have a terrific Vet who also happens to be quite a Humanitarian. They all know 'my story', including the part of my Life with Raja. Doc thought it was a splendid idea too. He knew what I knew: the dog is going to die otherwise.
Here we are now, a week later. Buddy has had one toe removed and is on anti-fungal meds for something called Valley Fever (eats the BONES! ICK!!!). He's also taking some antibiotics and getting massive doses of love and attention. In one short week he's gained 3 pounds, has a shining coat and his eyes are smiling...probably for the first time in his life. He has toys and a bed and a Doc who gives a hoot. And, of course, he has me. Buddy hit the Big Dog Lottery. But that's not all. He came into my world so he could live. What he brought was his large love, his complete trust (took him a while, but not as long as you might think!) AND a brand new purpose for this long-winded writer.
You see, as I've been researching various resources to help pay his medical bills, I've learned a ton of stuff. But the bottom line is there are far too many critters in very similar situations: that is to say, their 'people' don't have the money to give them the medical care they need when something 'big' happens. This results in the family or person having to ditch the critter. THIS results in shelters that are overflowing with critters who are then put to death. It is a sad and horrible situation. What does this mean for me? I have so much passion for them. I have tons of time right now, and quite a bit of savvy regarding networking. So...a new non-profit is about to be born. All in the name of Buddy. It is, indeed, 'personal happiness' at it's best.
If you, or anyone you know, would like to help with this Buddy Mission, please visit my website and click on the page 'BuddyBoyFund'. You'll find some pics and a much shorter version of what's going on. Any and all assistance is GREATLY appreciated!
Author's Bio
Camille Olivia Strate is an author and coach who takes great pleasure in helping folks 'remember' who they are. She spends much of her time with her beloved animals, her greatest connection to Source. When she's not coaching or writing, she can be found in the garden or on a trail, soaking in the marvels of Nature's offerings.
Her latest book, "Whispers" is now available in eBook format. Hardcopy to follow soon!
Visit her personal site at www.joyzachoice.com
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