Willy the Jim on of Dogs, and how My Prayer was Answered(Kanta)

[Guest guest]

Kanta, my dear! Thank you so much for this story... I had a dog like Willy, His name was Ben... and I also had to give him away... To hard to handle when you are disabled... Blessings for sharing such an insightful story in how Prayers are answered and how we have the loving support of the Universe, no matter what, ... when we are ready, of course In love and respect,Liane>> The beautiful "puppy sighs" story reminded me of an amazing pound > experience I had several years ago with a dog named Willy. While > living in Coastal North Carolina, my then-husband and I went to the > pound and found a gorgeous creamy mutt, part yellow lab and part who > knows what. He was really too old to train at a year and a half. > Fixed in his ways. But what did I know? He was beautiful.> > Willy turned out to be beyond incorrigible. He was the Jim on > of dogs. High maintenance. Dysfunctional. Chewed things, dug holes > everywhere. He head butted my knee when I was writing for attention. > But I loved him anyway. He was sweet, like an overgrown child. I > took him to dog training school. We were there with the other dog > mommies and daddies, and their (younger!) pups, Willy and me. He did > OK, sort of. I worked with him a lot. But, well, he liked things how > he liked them. It wasn't looking like there was going to be an end > to this, or any improvement. > > Then, I got an invitation from Omega Institute to come stay there as > Artist-in-Residence for a month. I would have a solo show, and teach > staff development classes in my specialty areas, Visionary Art and > Practical Sacred Space. I would get to do art and Guided Imagery in > the ultimate Holistic center in the US! > > As I prepared, Willy grew ever more demanding. And I realized, my > husband, who had wanted Willy in the first place, but had never > taken any interest in him once we got him home, was not going to be > able to handle Willy while I was gone. Nor did he want to. I was > peri-menopausal, really feeling the need to take care of myself > after child-raising and move forward as me. I would need to log may > hours planning my classes and getting ready for prparing my show > before I went. I was going to have to find another home for Willy.> > Easier said than done. I put ads in the paper, signs up, made phone > calls, you name it. And finally, with only a few weeks to my > departure, I prepared with a heavy heart to do the unthinkable: take > him back to the pound. It was the only alternative. On D-day, I > hugged him tight and told him he was going to find a home better > suited to his needs, where he could get the attention he needed and > he would be accepted as he was. I smudged him, affirming the he was > now "magnetizing" this new owner. I said a prayer of thanks. And > then we went.> > When we got to the pound, it didn't seem open. had I gotten the time > wrong? I got out and looked at the sign on the door. It was going to > be closed for another three hours. There was a woman parked in a > truck. She called out the window to me.> > "What are you doing?"> > I was already having a hard time controlling the tears that wanted > to come up.> > "What are you doing?" she insisted. > > "I have no alternative," I said.> > "Don't you know what they do to dogs here?" she pressed.> > I was raised as a polite little Quaker girl from Philadelphia. But > the pressure of letting go of Willy, trying to stay confident for > him, to move into the unknown while feeling the uncertainly and lack > of support...what would be the beginnings of the dissolution my > marriage...it was too much. And I didn't want to cry. > > "Do you want to take this dog?" I burst out.> > "Why, yes" she said. "I do."> > But I wasn't going to let him go that easily. Was she the one?> "You need to know some things about him," I said. "He needs a lot of > love and attention."> > "I'm retired. I have lots of time."> > "He digs. He'll wreck your garden and your lawn.> > "I don't care. He can have at it."> > "He likes the beach. Will you take him to the beach?"> > "I live in Swansboro. Practically at the beach. I go there all the > time."> > "OK, I said. He's yours. I'll go home and get his toys, his > medicine, his food and his treats and I'll be right back."> > "OK, " she said. "We'll wait for you."> > So Willy and she waited for me. And when I came back, they were > already friends. And I thought as I drove away and saw her truck on > its way to Swansboro, doggy heaven, out my rear view mirror, "What > was she doing, sitting in the pound parking lot three hours before > they opened? And I thanked God for answering my prayer.>