Things rarely leave as quickly as they arrived. And if they do, were they truly there in the first place?
The past few weeks have been a bundle of doggie kisses and long runs in the park. My front door was wide open and in walked a young pit bull terrier.
Now, I don't know if you've ever looked down your hallway and had the joy of seeing a huge dog running at you in your own home (and not your own dog) but for half a mo' I prepared myself for the mauling of a lifetime.
But unexpectedly he sat at my feet and began licking my hand. What was I going to do.
The weeks were filled with phone calls and emails to shelters and rescues. I had to write a bio about Loki (I always wanted a dog named Loki). And I had to take pictures of him. Someone suggested a video to help people see how playful he was.
Of course we couldn't find the owner, nor did we want to. Loki had shown up with a wound on his neck and face which indicated he was a kill dog. That's a young dog he is neutered and then thrown into a cage with an aggresive older dog to practice on. To practice attacking and killing. That's what people are doing while you and I sit around touching electronic keypads and cooking dinner.
The sad situation of the economy has left many animals without homes. Shelters are bursting at the seams and no one wants to adopt adult animals. And here in Atlanta the breeding of pit bulls for sport and money is out of control. No one came for Loki.
I enjoyed the morning walks. There was something powerful in his strut and I knew that everytime I gave him kisses and a treat he was telling me that he would save my life one day if need be. Still, no one came to adopt him.
Why didn't I keep him? No yard, my two small dogs didn't like him, my partner was scared of him. Loki spent all day in the garage and I felt bad even though I knew it was better than living on the streets. But it wasn't a long term solution.
A couple of nights ago I realized that my options had run out. As we walked I realized that I might have to surrender him to a county shelter. I bent down and let him kiss my ear.
I decided then and there what I would do. I would bring him to the vet and put him to sleep in my arms, letting him believe until the very end that I would take care of him.
But, as things have the tendency to do, everything changed. Someone stepped forward and volunteered to foster Loki in there home. He had a place to go. At least for now.
So before I knew what was happening, he was gone. Almost as quickly as he came. But he is with me in my heart. Somehow that time spent working with him, training him to walk and sit and heel...it made me a little more confident.
Loki made me realize I've been sitting around whining quite a bit about inspiration and the lack of muses and other such nonsense, when in fact, opportunity walks into your front door and your life everyday. You just have to let it.
So I'm now two chapters into my next book even though the first one was rejected by the publisher. (Did I mention it was optioned for six months before they came back and said it wouldn't fit into their publishing schedule?)
And I'm thinking about the next animal I will rescue, and the next book I will write and the things that come into my life will not disappear quite so fast.