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HAVE I HELPED? |
Why we Believe
I'll bet you are really curious about this one.... It is about a bird and a dog. stay tuned!
A baby robin dropped out of a nest on our property the other day. Not quite ready for prime time. It looked healthy otherwise, so my wife carefully picked it up, put it in a bucket with some leaves and decided to adopt it. She went looking for worms for the poor creature - never saw her dig for worms before. After a day or so the bird did not look too happy, and did not appear to be eating his newly acquired delicacies.
So my wife decides to try and return the bird to its nest, hoping the robins fluttering around the yard will return and put this little bugger back to health. Now you have to understand this nest is up in a tree. Only reachable by a ladder, plus climbing a while. Guess who gets recruited to drag the 28 foot ladder out of the garage and gets to try to position it in the tree so my wife can make the perilous climb to the nest? Now you have to realize my wife is 51 years old. She thinks she is still some spring chicken, but I assure she is not. Well, yes of course she is in some sense of the word.
Before climbing in the tree to restore the poor creature, this time she is wearing latex gloves, having told me, that after considerable late nite Internet searching, she has learned that the parents may not reclaim the little bugger if they detect human hands have been involved. Maybe they suspect it has been booby trapped?? After a struggle getting the ladder into the tree, and considerable angst watching my wife climb this tree, my spring chicken of a wife manages to get it back into the nest somehow. The nest is actually out on a limb about 1 or 2 inches in diameter. great...
Well, my wife camps out watching the nest, the fluttering robins, and everything else out in the front yard. But the birds are not returning to the nest and nursing the little bugger back to health. So....... lather, rinse and repeat paragraph 2 above. Retrieve the little bugger from the nest, put it back in a bucket and try again. Get some fresh delicacies and again hope for the best.
Now comes the sad part. Sorry to spoil it for you there. We of course have two dogs. A ferocious German Shepard female, and a seemingly harmless little terrier of some type, who of course is much more ferocious than the German Shepard. The Shepard's name is Raven, and the terrier's name is Pepper. I think my wife loves these two animals, sorry pets, more than she loves me sometimes. But that is not too hard to imagine given all my faults in this particular incarnation of my life. The dogs are house dogs, they sleep in our bedroom, they fill our house up with dog hair, but they are loved more than life itself. They are loyal beyond belief, as most dogs are who get their food and drink from their human masters. I can make Pepper incredulously happy by putting on my hat and picking up the leash, as if I were going to take her for a walk, which I do quite often. I absolutely make her whole day. These dogs do not have a life beyond looking to us for favors, barking at a few passing strangers, and sucking up to us every moment of the day hoping for a treat of some kind. Going for a trip in the car is of course another most excellent treat. We cannot get out the door to even go on the trip because of the mass of dogs blocking the exit to the door, making absolutely sure that they will be the first one out the door and into the outside world.
So you get the general picture. Raven and Pepper are very special to my wife, both and each one in their own special way. They are special to me in various ways. I learn from them every day about other species of life. I often wonder if there are other species of life in this life or the next to whom we are, or will be as dogs. I often remember flying Haley (that was another older dog who belonged to my daughter, and for whom we dog sat in the past) to Denver to be with her. I often think about what Haley thought about that trip. It must have been magic to her that at the end of this incredibly difficult, frightful adventure was an absolutely heart pounding joy to be experienced. She had no clue, and there was no clue we could give to her. Do you suppose our death is something like that?? Do you see what I mean about learning from these dogs?
Another thing I learn from these dogs is how we depend on them in this day and age for sociability. I will not even consider going for a walk without a dog. Just think about it. A walk is in and of itself a pretty boring adventure, only slightly helped by the scenery I often walk in. To the dog it is a magical mystery tour, each and every time we go out, even if it is over the same exact path! I have read that when Pepper returns from her walk that Raven can do a good sniff of her and recapitulate all the adventures that Pepper has experienced just by the aromas. Would that we as humans could evoke the same joy from our sometimes boring adventure through life.
Another reason I will not walk without a dog is because women do not seem to find a man with a dog to be an object to be cautious of. Of course in this day and age, if you are a woman on a solitary walk and you meet or pass a solitary man, you have to be wary. So the Pepper makes it much easier to be sociable, and even for me to get a little socialization in. The women all remark on how cute the Pepper monster is of course, while I try to dream up some worthwhile remark of my own. If the women has a dog, which they very often do, it is much easier of course. And I often get to discourse with a very good looking women, because typically only very good looking women are out getting this exercise!
Well, we wander off course, but not much. You get the general idea of how much these dogs mean to us, each in her own special way. My wife will spend hours ticking and rubbing Pepper's tummy. She is like a personal, live pillow for her. She treasures her dearly, much as she does Raven. Raven of course is the steady companion, the one always, and I mean always to a fault, and maybe better described as "always in the way," at her master's side. Often it is under her desk when the thunder and lightening appear on the scene.
Well, my wife decides to show off this little robin that she is taking care of to her treasured companions. I guess she feels that maybe this robin will come to play a similar role in her life as the dogs, I don't know. Raven the ferocious German Shepard thinks little of the poor little bugger, just getting a sniff in of course, and continues to ignore it much as she does much of the human race (except for her master of course). The Pepper monster, upon being shown the poor little bugger of a bird, promptly attacks and shreds the little bird to pieces.
Well, I think you can see where this is going. My wife was a basket case for several days after that. Pepper was in a real dog house as well, trying to figure out what she did wrong. Raven just continued to ignore anything and everything, but did wonder a little why her master was so sad. Her husband of course, based upon previous experience, almost immediately deduced what was going on, so he tried to offer his own little consolation efforts.
How could one of the beings that you love most in life kill another thing that you love? How are you supposed to continue loving, and living? How is this supposed to make sense? What is the purpose of it all?
This can be generalized beyond measure of course, and I intend to do so. You have been warned.
For millennia before the present era, "making sense" of things was simply not dealt as a card in the deck of life. Making love, making children, making merry, making your enemies die, making it to the next day was pretty much the be all and end all of existence for most of humanity. Making sense? I don't think so.
We simply cannot fathom any purpose to this existence, so we must believe in these things as worthy substitutes.