The Call From Within

By Beth A. Nigro

The plight of animals has been neglected for too long. This fact, simply obvious, and according to the many devoted witnesses to animal cruelty, inspires the desire for an existence of peace, having found some answers through time with people who care, bringing to life the Laws to assist.

Concern for our "pets", and the problem

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Oct 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647535100

Beth A. Nigro

Beth A. Nigro graduated with a Master's Degree from Fordham University, in New York, where she studied the philosophy of Animal Rights, independently, writing her Master's essay (The Gulf Between Us: An Essay of the Human and Non-human in Western Philosophical Thought) about such issues, and its connection with Feminist descriptions of the origin of dualist thinking and its role in the perception of animals and other Others.

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The Call from Within

Beth A. Nigro

The Call from Within

Copyright © 2020 by Beth A. Nigro. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.

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Published in the United States of America

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020918685

ISBN 978-1-64753-509-4 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64753-510-0 (Digital)

21.09.20

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER ONE

Standing at her bedroom window, looking out at the swirling leaves in her big backyard, Deborah Miller mindfully appraised the hope that now filled her heart.

She told herself, again and again, that she could change the world, one animal at a time. But how would she really help so many, ultimately? she thought sometimes. Deborah’s work at the animal shelter enabled her penchant for doing something for animals, each day, instead of just thinking about it. But she still felt intuitively that it was not enough.

Opening the balcony doors off the small light filled bedroom, the dreams of that night came rushing back at her. She was lost, driving in the dark… And from without Deborah felt a cloudy dreamlike wall surround her, enclosing her within a misty room of now forgotten thoughts and images. She thinks of heat, and how it rises, when the feeling moves away, trailing a ‘light wind’ behind it; but the leaves left her feeling dizzy, though it all happened in a matter of seconds, and she then felt a sense of relief.

What is it that haunts her, and leaves her so despondent in the end? she wonders. She doesn’t really know. It’s all in the back of her mind somewhere. It’s underlying everything she does. It’s never enough to stamp it out, and get rid of it because some part of it remains somewhere. Yet she can’t do anything to change it unless she knows what’s eating at her in the first place.

The sunlight is now brilliant. And the memory of her dreams dissipates further when she hears footsteps. It’s Corwyn, her lover, walking up the stairs holding two cups of chamomile tea. Bounding behind and in front of him are Briana and Athena, their two dogs. The two black German Shepard mixes are an integral part of their happy, loving family, and so follow along wherever they go.

Sisters, Briana and Athena were adopted from a rescue group; someone had found them both abandoned in an overgrown, neglected lot nearby. It was soon discovered that their mother was killed when hit by a car, just days before. There were three other puppies there sadly waiting for their mother to return, and they did not survive their few days of life exposed to the elements; but these two sisters are, miraculously, survivors of this sad loss.

Deborah loves Briana and Athena with all her heart, and, in fact, she has a kind of loving connection to all animals, many of whom she’s saved from death and despondency. This unique connection to animals has been the case for her since early childhood. And this love for animals is especially important now, because her job brings her face to face with other animals which she cares for on a daily basis at the shelter, where she is desperately needed. Although many animals leave the shelter eventually, she never forgets them; they are all individuals with unique memorable personalities after all.

Corwyn walked into the bedroom, his bare feet on the plush beige carpet, carrying their tea. He went toward one of the two side tables, when Deborah quickly makes a suggestion to bring the tea onto the balcony where she is now seated. He changes direction immediately, trying not to spill it. And the dogs, bouncing around him, don’t make it easy.

On the balcony there are two white wicker chairs, with red cushions, one on each side, with a matching round glass top table between them. The sun entreats them, as though destiny calls them to sit.

Placing the two cups of tea on the table and sitting in the chair opposite that of Deborah, Corwyn asks her, What’s the matter?, you seem quiet today. Her face does reflect a strong image of sorrow, and a resigned attitude.

She responds, Nothing is wrong, i’m just tired, don’t want to go to work today.

Prancer would miss you, he said. He is thinking that lately she seems withdrawn, perhaps having something on her mind that she is not sharing.

She turns to him, seeking out his motive. And I’d miss him also, she said.

She feels a tug at her heart when thinking of this dog; there are just some beings who especially touch the heart, and for her this would be Prancer, a blue Pomeranian with the face of an angel. Together, Deborah and Prancer share deep feelings, often somehow inexplicable between them. They are soul companions, of which Deborah believes there can be many, human or not. There is something knocking on the heart, a unique knowing between soul and soul that makes all interaction meaningful and eternal, and destiny speaks. Together, they will always know this to be true, even if they will eventually have different life paths altogether. There is love there, and caring, and need, and an unexplainable permanent connection.

I started reading about different animal rights philosophies, from those books I bought, she said. Deborah always gets up at dawn, before everyone else, and she reads in the quiet time before the alarm goes off. It’s great, I’m learning so much! But the things people do to animals is appalling; they gave accounts of animal abuse in great detail; and I don’t get it at all.

Deborah said, The animals that come into the shelter usually have health problems, and treatment can’t be denied them. We have more dogs and cats that come in than go out and get adopted, it seems. They come in abused, injured, tortured, starved, abandoned- it’s depressing. This vacillation between hope and despair continues to plague Deborah, her efforts to change these situations, and to bring about change and progress, seems to reach a stalemate again and again. Is that her pessimism talking, or is it really that bad? She doesn’t know. But she felt a rush then; her job has been picked for her.

And yet, what can be done to ameliorate this horrid situation? Deborah asks the world around her, in a beseeching tone. That’s why I turn to the wisdom of the philosophers! What can be done?, she repeats, though Corwyn has no clear answers, if any at all. It’s a rhetorical question. And the overt feeling of helplessness, that she can’t change their circumstances, reminded her of rotten fruit. The fresh fruit is a tempting and luscious treat at one point, when she could do something and feel satisfaction, and eat its sugary flesh; but it feels that it’s now too late, and she could do nothing but walk away from it to avoid the smell of crushed rotten fruit beneath her shoes. All the good fruit has fallen off the tree. But this can’t be the end of it, she thought! it’s not over! She was feeling ‘political’ now.

Corwyn remained silent. Deborah said, Some of these philosophers say that humans and nonhumans are ‘equally morally considerable’. That implies that we may have all kinds of differences, mentally, or physically, between animals and humans, and humans and humans, and still, all have certain moral rights. It follows that, despite our differences we are in that moral sense equal. We share in this pot of opportunity to be, to flourish.

Like most people, Corwyn remains silent, not wanting to argue at this point. And the sun seems to distract him, its warmth his destiny for the moment. Deborah continued ,I’ve also read, but I’m not sure I understand this, that we can’t argue profitably between morality and science, biology in this instance, in a sense, because of these physical differences between human and human and between human and nonhuman. It seems that we need a solid common standpoint between human and nonhuman to begin to speculate on its moral truth or possibility for each. Each is a separate subject matter, even when we try to mate them. Morality does not hold instances of fact here, because the differences we discussed are matters of fact that continually change, and the moral stance is of a different nature altogether, at least in thought, because it doesn’t really change, and the reasons why humans are put at the center of everything, is because they can be moral, because they are ‘special’, they are considered durable, spiritual, and are said to have a soul- we are thought to be made in the image of God. So it’s like questioning whether we can all apply moral standards to each animal even if we are all physically different, and yet one cannot say that we are eligible for moral considerations, and others are not, because of this difference. That’s why we say that humans are rational, and animals are not, and it is expected that because of this, humans are morally considerable, and animals are not- but it seems that that should not be the case. Morality should be more flexible, I think. I can’t wrap my brain around this one. I’m not sure I understand this really. She faced the light and warmth the sun gives; but it doesn’t bring her any closer to the truth.

Deborah said, But even knowing this I am feeling down because it seems like it is a monumental task- the world is so big. And why don’t others see it that way? Isn’t it obvious that torturing dogs and cats is wrong morally, whatever stupid philosophy behind it?

Corwyn responds, Get down to the bottom of it, and forget the moral arguments. It is hard to change peoples ideas anyway. The fact seems to be that animals, in most cases, have always been treated in this manner. At least it seems that way. We hear about horrible things done in other cultures. And how can you change the world? What’s happening is not only here in the West, it’s almost everywhere! Not that I am not on your side; I don’t believe in hurting animals, but these things that happen to them is so entrenched in this world. Corwyn feels that he is letting her down in some way, or making her feel helpless, but he thinks that ‘you can’t save the world’ so easily; in fact, it seems impossible. And he faced her with a questionable expression; and the answer not truly given.

She looks at him, his eyes partially closed, unremarkable. And she responds, Well, it was wrong that women were mistreated, but watch the news, read the books! Women are fighting for their rights all over the world, and have been for some time. Change is being made despite those who say that women are physically different, and so supposedly can’t do what a man does. Even in terms of mental capacity they actually think that the ‘the difference is all the difference’, but it’s all changing regardless. Clearly you are being negative, along with so many others who are reacting to this problem.

Deborah said, No one wants to look at the pictures online of tortured animals and face the truth of the matter. The truth regarding women’s inferior status is an issue that’s spreading as well. Women are people too, half the population, and it is claimed that they are treated well in our society, but this is a lie, another case of avoiding the simple facts. And so we can also see how the rights of animals are being denied in a similar manner, and it is too easy to dismiss the evidence and forget about it completely! But we’re slowly unveiling the facts in both cases. And so we can see that the world is changing for the better, albeit very slowly, and showing people the truth works over time. But we still need to conscientiously fight for them. I am battling these feelings that are both clear and logical but continually obscured by lies. The sun and wind on her face seemed to captivate her words, in confirmation, eluding nothing of value.

Corwyn took a sip of his tea, placed his cup on the table, leaned backward and, enjoying the sun on his face, closed his eyes. That sounds great the way you talk about it, the animals just slowly, over time, getting a right to life, and all that, but it doesn’t seem practical. Where or what is ‘it’, the truth that you are talking about? How does ‘it’ now change things for the so-called oppressed? His arms are extended before him, now supplicating the heavens, and he seemed imminently frustrated. It seems not to connect, if you know what I mean. The facts might change but the abstract theories are above the day to day; what has changed for animals recently, if anything? Shouldn’t there be a connection between the two?

Deborah turned to look at him with a stern frown, her demeanor seemingly calm, her eyes bright and lucid, poignantly so, despite the challenge, and said, Moral thinking about the facts of abuse leads to an awareness of it. It’s just that getting to that position may come from different places and people around the world, and within us. It may begin at a university, for instance, by a professor who thinks animal rights are an important subject of discussion, and that some ‘physical’ and psychological changes of things and organisms can be a source of freedom for all of us. Animals are now thought to be capable of consciousness, and the proof is available, at present. And people are learning that it is wrong to do with them what we will, and that change can be had. And before you know it new laws are erected to protect cats and dogs, and other animals, in fact, not just theory. I just have trouble getting from one end of the bargain to the other. But now animals found abused or neglected in their homes are taken and the abuser is brought to jail and/or fined. This shows clearly some of the ambition that motivates us in life.

Confronted by her own attitude, she grasps on to what she has said so far, reviewing the points that stay with her in spirit. Deborah said, Obviously we are in ‘times of change’ for animals, and we have to implement better laws, with longer jail time and higher fines. Think about it, animal cruelty is now a federal offense in all of the United States. We are on the way to a better life to share with them, to give them support, but we still need to push the main points further so that it takes hold in reality, if you know what I mean. And we are a part of it all, and its hard to see and steer the mechanism of change while we are ‘in it’, behind it, and it is easier to see change looking backwards sometimes. A feeling of comfort in the idea of change, as if one is watching clouds gently go by, without judgement, was to take hold of her; it was a mystical confirmation for Deborah. She closed her eyes, not to shut things out, but to open herself to the ephemeral considerations to be taken in. She knew that change would come soon, and she would be a part of it, or at least see it happen in her lifetime. She felt, bodily, physical, assurance of that, as she then opened her eyes on her new perception of the world, that which is ever growing and real.

So knowing that these laws are right now becoming entrenched in our thinking, animal abuse is not; it is escaping through the newly built hatchway. And now people are more likely to call the police if animal or human abuse is suspected. People in our society are just now learning about animals being mistreated in the circuses, in the research labs, and in the puppy mills, she said triumphantly. It’s just the connection to the world we need to implement it everywhere, in a trickle down manner.

Anyway, now we have something to think about today while at work, Deborah said, with a sarcastic smile. Her soft pink robe was fluttering in the cool breeze, its impressionable changes minute but thoughtful to her. Karen should be here in a little while, so I should take a shower, she said, uncrossing her tan, lean legs, her bare feet on the smooth wood surface beneath her. She got up and grabbed her half empty tea cup and walked slowly downstairs to the kitchen, the breeze from the open doors alighting on the staircase behind her. Briana and Athena followed her, panting and huffing, hoping she’d give them a treat. She does give them a treat, and kissed them both on the nose first. Her love for them is so deep and sure she felt it physically, the thought of it enrapturing her senses, and ending with a smile.

CHAPTER TWO

As Deborah is busy trying to find something to wear in the stuffed wicker laundry basket, she thinks about Prancer as a healer. Such a feeling of love pours through her, and she is elated that she will see him at work soon, now that he’s on her mind and vicariously addressing her soul.

Prancer’s life of healing others is an example to Deborah, and potentially to others, that illuminates, matter of fact, that an animal is not an ‘it’, but a special being in his own right. He is not simply one animal among many, and so numbered as such, but a complex entity who loves and cares for others, without him having an ulterior motive for himself; and he is also a being who is an end in himself, not something to be had for another’s gain in turn. He is a dog who exhibits happiness and joy, in life itself, and he is loved for that reason, and because he loves others so much; it is to share in glory and love between warm spirits. And it is all evident in his smile, body language, and his care for others.

The season is Fall, Deborah’s favorite time of year. She stood outside on her doorstep, waiting for Karen, enjoying the cool breeze, and the smell of cut grass and flowers. And she especially loves the fresh air, and the way that the trees above her somehow filter the light in dappled tones, swaying in an almost a circular pattern that entrances her, and recalls some good but cloudy memories of days long past. It brings back times when she was growing up, hanging out with her friends and family at the brook near her home. As children, they would eagerly look for crayfish and frogs, just for the fun of it, and not to take them away from their homes or hurt them in any way. ‘Now we don’t see such caring and love when it comes to animals and some children’, she thought. Things seem to have changed since then, with regard to how they treat animals, she thought morosely. And that thought produced a shiver that encompassed her whole body. She felt an overwhelming sense of regret and fear, one that never escapes her.

It’s been a hot summer. Deborah and Corwyn had gone to the beach in New Jersey a couple of weeks ago, and had rented a room there, spending days soaking up the sun as if it were medicine. And in a way it was. It was a kind of purging fire, burning off hate and regret, and then the overall healing of their body and mind through cool rapture in the evenings. During those times of leisure they talked about everything on their mind. Some of it repetitions of last year’s failings, some of it new and sharp to think of. But now the cooler weather is coming, and along with it a nice warm house, with two dogs to enjoy the holidays with. Just being together is what life is all about after all, and the animals feel the same; family matters most. And that thought was as sweet as clear running water gushing down her throat, in response to a great thirst of life itself.

‘Karen should be here any minute’, she thought sadly; she didn’t feel like leaving the house just yet. But she is always on time, and sometimes early. Deborah has known Karen since childhood, and now they both work together at the local shelter. Both have a set goal: to help make the world a better place for animals in the surrounding area where they live in particular.

Deborah knows that when Karen shows up, she’ll have that true-to-life smile she always has, a reflection of a life well-lived. Unlike Deborah, Karen had a miserable childhood; she was physically and sexually abused by a family member at the age of five. Thus, her smile has come from a deep, dark, but fierce and strident place within, a hiding place of sorts, where she now feels pure and strong; a clear and overt overcoming of that past life crisis is evident at once in her eyes when challenged. Yet she always seems to be elated by the ‘winning of the war’ attitude that saved her in the first place, and that overcoming always makes her smile.

Having dealt with her particular issues for so long, Karen could rightly say that it is still a difficult life to live to have such memories concurrently uprooted and that give her a constant overwhelming burden to contend with, even when doing mundane tasks just trying to stay rooted in the present is a job in itself, the sun being blocked, and the clouds taking over. And sometimes, most often when her mind is resting, without the ‘gates down’, or is awake for only a few minutes, and the mind is not yet ‘guarded’, a kind of mist descended. It is cold and dark, and unable to shake it off, at first, she feels the same pain, a pain that has no age, but pervades all ages, and before it can clear, a psychological crack can be ‘heard’, and the feelings of fear, and of feeling dirty, the experience of nauseated, all together shoots her with an arrow through the heart, and then it is too late to pull it out before the pain sets in, because the deed is done, and only then after the imminent terror can she finally push it away, and return to her fortress, safe for the moment.

Despite her tremendous sense of mental pain and scarring, and despite her trust having been shattered repeatedly, Karen can be a true friend to Deborah; and, in fact, she is a beautiful person both within and without. Long blond hair brightens and surrounds her face in a halo of light. Her blue eyes are large blue windows to her icy cool soul. Her eyes are, in fact, and at once, deep and vibrant. Overall, she is petite but so full of presence; always lighting up the room with her sweet conversation and flowery demeanor.

Karen is now pulling into Deborah’s driveway in her blue Honda.

Deborah thought that she should have brought a sweater, because it is cool now, especially when the wind is blowing, and the animal shelter is always cold. But she is happy to see Karen, and quickly forgets her discomfort. Hi Karen, she yelled with a smile, waving at her. Deborah grabs her things together and walks carefully down the steps.

Do you need help? Karen asked her.

Deborah had brought some of her paperwork home, to work on over the weekend, and along with her other things, the bag was evidently quite heavy. No, and I’ll just put these in the back seat. she responded. She put the papers down to open the back door, and after opening it she picked up everything, and grunting, put them on the seat with a plop.

Deborah then opened the front passenger side door and climbed in, sitting on the chilly seat beneath her. She has not yet gotten used to the Fall weather slowly but surely approaching, although she has always loved it dearly.

Both Deborah and Karen live in a small town in New York called Croton, and in an adjacent town, Ossining, there is the animal shelter where they both work. As they drive to work each day, they always enjoy the scenery of the back roads. The dark narrow roads, a little bumpy and yet serene to travel by. These are the tree lined streets, mostly, and the houses all have colorful flowers which are still bright and cheerful despite the chilly weather, and this loveliness begins the day on a good note.

Driving to the shelter with Karen must be different than it would be from other drivers going to their work, due to the nature of their job, Deborah thinks. The responsibility, for them, is not a burden at all. The animals there need their full attention, and they try to imagine what it must feel like to depend on someone, on the other side of a gate, when they are there and given to a reflective state of mind. Deborah in particular doesn’t let the noises get in her way; she can still hear the individual personality in each bark, and she thinks that their needs are important to them, and does not push them to the side to be ignored, or let their constant crying overwhelm her. Although some people might push them all away, in her imagination, she refuses to let them all down. It is only a matter of time that comes between them all, the difference being: ‘when will they get fed, and in what order?’ and the days move on. And there are so many there, she thinks. All those conscious minds looking at her one mind, and they want her, not only for food, but to be one to know they will be heard, and not ignored, for the most part. It is her job to set them on life’s frugal path, and will hopefully give them a good home where they will joyfully live out their so far misspent lives.

This work for Deborah is, what she would call, ‘life work’. And she is presently happy where she lives and works, mostly because she grew up in the inner city and had always wanted to have animals and a big house in the country, or at least a place where there are trees of many kinds, and grass lawns in front of every house, herself living, perhaps within a big walled-in backyard where her house could be safely planted, isolated on some level, but her forever home nonetheless. She would now consider ‘country’ a place where she could have several dogs, cats, goats, chickens, maybe a small farm up North from the city, and for now, she loves the greenery of her neighborhood, and so she has arrived to what counts as a ‘country’ life in her book, although it is still a work in progress overall.

As they approached the shelter, a large green barn-like structure, they see that two small dogs have been tied to the railing on the steps near the front door. Clearly the person, or persons, wanted to avoid paying the surrender fee for leaving the dogs there. They were both cowering to one side, clearly unhappy with their current situation, evoking in them a sadness so deep. Both dogs looked like chihuahua mixes, and they were perhaps related.

Deborah and Karen got out of the car and approached them slowly, speaking to them in gentle tones, to ease their fears. They would be kept together during their stay at the shelter, to keep each other company, and to allow them to feel safe and cared for with a sense of familiarity. The feeling of abandonment is something Deborah could understand, as she has experienced it herself throughout her life; she knows deeply how they feel. And in this case, with these dogs, she felt the sadness of it all engage her sympathy for them, and she instantly, and physically, immersed herself in that recognizable sensation felt in her stomach, something inside moving around in her like butterflies, but more aggressive in nature; and then that feeling seemed to float within her, ephemerally rising upwards to embrace her ardent thoughts. And she could see that sadness well in their eyes, see their pleading silent gestures, and shaking bodies, their eyes looking into hers, as if they knew she knew.

Deborah first opened the front door to the shelter and put her heavy bags behind the main desk inside, feeling a slump inside her belly, in remorse for what she has to do now. Finding animals on the stairs or tied to the door was not unusual; she would come to work and find dogs, or cats, and other animals, all the time, in cages or on leashes, just lost and withered from fear; and almost always the animal is sick or old, and had lived with people who now didn’t want to put out, or actually couldn’t pay for the medical treatment needed. It is still heartless and selfish to abandon them, and it happens all the time. And she cursed them silently.

CHAPTER THREE

Once settled inside they brought the dogs in, and placed them in the ‘holding cage’, with some food, until they are ready to get them cleaned up and treated. The dogs, though despondent, didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, they just appeared scared, heartbroken more than anything. And in a way it is a good thing that they were brought to the shelter, because the people who work in shelters are competent, and usually know just what to do to help them, and alleviate their immediate fears; they are most often angels who are experts at treating neglected, mistreated, injured, starving, and sick animals. And the people at this particular shelter care about what happens to them.

It could be worse, some heartless people drive their dogs to a place far away from home, and push them out of the car, abandoning them somewhere at random, with no plans for rescue; sometimes it is done in heavy traffic, with the dog running after the car for long distances. And so the people at the shelter often feel a sense of relief, that they could have a chance to take care of them properly, because obviously most others who would do such a thing would not. And they really need more than just medical attention and food; they need to know that they are safe and loved.

The pictures reflected in Deborah’s thoughts revealed to her a time when she was young and considering what she thought of a person who abandoned their dog or cat like that. In her memory she recalls cool breezes at her window, pink curtains fluttering from the persistent wind, and the cool dark hardwood floors that she sat on, on that particular day. Even back then she wondered, why would you befriend someone (some dog, in this instance) and give them everything that they need in this life, getting pure love in return, and then one day take them somewhere, miles away, and abandon them there on some side road; who with love in their heart, and morals in their society, would do that to an innocent being?

Deborah asked the same question in the present: why? Even if you had to part ways from them, isn’t it less cruel and hurtful to give them away to someone who could, or bring them to a shelter, doing what’s truly necessary to ease their fears? The smell of the fresh air filled her thoughts on that day, just ruminating on such things, past and present, when she cried, thinking of that poor dog left abandoned, who must have been so confused, thinking that ‘there is a reason for this, and they will be right back’. Or some dogs would chase the car…. And the fresh air from the window was imminently deceptive. The senses love the input, and live off of it, but all is not right in the world, nothing seems so sweet. She wanted to turn away from it, but felt stuck there, thinking those thoughts over and over again.

That is why some of the animals become severely depressed or scared, at the shelter, and don’t adjust for long periods of time, if at all. They have truly been betrayed by those they love the most.

After the two dogs were put in the temporary holding cage, Prancer was then let out of his enclosure; and he is allowed such freedom because he is one of the few dogs there that can be trusted when loose; and he is ‘different’, special. And as usual, he was ecstatic to see Deborah and Karen, and he was ready to formally greet Deborah personally, his one love with all pomposity; it is all part of the everyday ritual, after all, and he is Deborah’s ‘little boy’. And so they together go through the usual heartfelt greeting ceremony of licking, jumping, yipping; and the caressing of which it is constituted, and then finally to settle down to the business of the day at hand. Prancer loves to help with everything, and he does not get in Deborah’s way at all, but helps a great deal.

Their animal shelter is quite large. Only upon entering, can one can see the extent of it; and it looks much bigger from the inside. Light pours in through the large windows above, all of which surround the main room. There is, on the left side of said building, the main desk. This is where all paperwork is situated and payment and information service is conducted. On the immediate right is the holding cage, for all new animals coming into the shelter; there they stay until they are seen by a doctor, and are then cleaned up and treated, to be placed in a more permanent spot. There is also a room up further along, and also on the right, which houses the cats; ‘the cattery’. The walls that confine this section are actually large windows, so that they can be watched day by day, and can look about themselves, keeping them occupied in their confinement, and assume a sense of freedom. There are twenty-three cats housed there now and most of them are loose.

Moving toward the back, on both sides of the large room, there is a line of cages, where the dogs wait to be adopted; it is where they live, sometimes for years. Though the staff walk them outside often, and there are volunteers who do that and more, it is still a difficult and limited life for them; and theirs is a sadness which emanates from their eyes, and never fades.

All the way down and in the back of the building, there are the offices; the veterinarian’s office, and other rooms, i.e., closet and lavatory, and a room for medical supplies.

The dogs are now beginning to wake up, excited and eager to entertain their day. And they are, as expected, quite ready to eat; it is important the time of day when everyone in the shelter will have some food, this being one of the best parts of the day for them aside from the mere greetings that abound. The dogs and cats here live in an institutional arrangement that they had grown used to over the months, and sometimes years that they’ve been there. They didn’t know what they were missing, life outside being much more entertaining, but they experienced the loss and pain nonetheless, thought perhaps in an amorphous way that they couldn’t really ascertain. Unfortunately they are not looked upon as individuals, but as one of many, and so all were numbered accordingly. They were never asked what they wanted, nor given a choice, or a variety, necessarily, but had to take what was given, and that was enough for the present. They would live and move as one, as a body of many, all connected in that ephemeral way; and that was life impersonal.

Volunteers, and other workers were arriving, and it was the beginning of another agonizingly long and busy day. At the shelter Karen takes care of incoming, and other correspondence relating to getting the dogs and cats adopted as soon as possible; and the goal is always in sight to get them each in good homes at that. She was already behind her desk answering the phone and making arrangements with people who were interested in some lucky cats and dogs.

Today Deborah is bringing a dog, Jake, to a woman who has decided to adopt him. Deborah’s calendar has that appointment scheduled for 10:00 am this very morning. Yesterday, Deborah washed Jake, cut his nails, and made him beautiful for his new owner; he is now as handsome outside as he is inside. He is a neutered, black Labrador/shepherd mix, about two years old. His manners and demeanor are great. And his big brown eyes are full of love, hope, and anticipation. Looking at him in his cage, she thinks he somehow knows he’s being adopted, and will soon have a nice big house to play in, all at his leisure. And, most important, he will hopefully live with a woman who will love him no matter what he looks like, how old he is, and what happens healthwise. Jake is panting now, and his happiness is reflected in his big smile and shiny eyes; he looks as though he’d shed tears of joy; his tail wags eagerly, and so he must know his fate somehow, she thinks, as she cleans him up, tenderly and with care.

The information required is gone over for the woman adopting Jake, and it is soon complete, all paperwork to be given to his adopter when Jake is dropped off, and she meets her new love and life companion. All is well as far as specifics go. She mentally goes through all the points that he had his shots, and he is healthy, and has a good temperament. Barbara will love him; he is sweet and ‘true blue’.

Deborah often wonders what makes a dog act out the way they do in our society sometimes. It seems that some dogs are naturally aggressive, while others are simply loving and easy-going, whatever the breed. But there is more likely to be some combination of innate and learned behavior that makes them ‘who they are’, when all is said and done, she thinks. This kind of wary treatment we often see among us, in part, because we know that we cannot trust certain dogs, and we are aware of this by simply looking in their eyes when we meet them.

And Deborah is inclined to think that from the very beginning, and from having had adequate contact with humans at a very early age, certain puppies she is considering will likely be trusting, and loving dogs. But if we teach them aggression, they will likely become increasingly dangerous, and will be a menace to society at large; aggressive to people and other animals. So there is in certain dogs a negative tendency, that which is brought out and expanded upon through learning, in this kind of case particularly.

We see this today with pit bulls especially, though not all pit bulls are dangerous at the outset; so, for one it’s bred into them to behave a certain way, by people who want an aggressive ‘protector’ of their home, or they are thugs who want a dog who will fight other dogs for monetary profit through gambling on the expectations of certain dogs and their strength and fighting ability.

But this has not always been the fate of Pit bulls; and they are not some new breed. In fact, German Shepherds were once thought just as dangerous, followed by Doberman Pinschers and subsequent to that, Rottweilers. And it is now simply the Pit bulls who have taken on such a bad reputation recently, perhaps due, in part, to their popularity. But, again, problems arise in other areas of this particular tendency to blame Pit bulls, Deborah thought: these dogs, and other dogs who tend to bite, are most often not on leashes or contained in any manner, as they probably should be . They are often guarding their humans, or their homes in general when they attack strangers. And therefore, in many cases, the humans are the progenitors of such terror that they train them to invoke. And if the dogs do have an innate tendency to bite, then their owners should be required to train such animals, by a professional, to curb their aggressive behaviors; and, of course, they should not be yelled at or antagonized in any way by those who are perceived to pose a threat, during this process. The dog will naturally feel obliged to defend his human family, and this is, for the most part, anticipated and is quite normal for them, and most dogs.

The shelter’s van will be used today, by Deborah, for transport, because there is a built-in cage in the back of it that Jake will ride in, and its safer that way, and in the case that there is a sudden stop, or accident, he will be more secure in the event, than he would be on the front or back seats of the van, and so it is now required.

Deborah thinks that the dogs and cats who ride in the van, on to a specific destination, and to their new owner, are aware that things are going well for them at that special moment; but she obviously doesn’t really know what they are thinking, and can only guess. It is like a human being adopted by another human; part of the overall ‘process’ is to make certain that both sides understand that they are safe when being united with their new family, and measures must be taken to assure them that all sides of the occurrence know that something good is happening to them that will change their life forever and for the better. They might have a ‘good feeling’, a somewhat mystical experience, that someone is rooting for them. And since most of their life changes are, by now, good, in general, they probably think they are going on some kind of timely adventure, and they are subsequently eager to take part in it. And so humans are not the only ones who try to make the best of a situation; animals also experience such optimism, and in this case, Jake knows somehow that he will have some person, or persons, who will love him always; and he deserves it, after all.

Deborah tells Karen that she is leaving, and she goes to Jake’s cage, where he has spent nearly a year of his life, waiting for that special moment. Jake will make a great house mate, he will protect the loving family from harm, and will return their love unconditionally. ‘The adopters must be so excited’, Deborah thinks, excitedly to herself; and that is part of why she loves her job here at the shelter. She loves bringing dogs and cats together with their new humans, in essence creating out of nothing a bond between them. Jake is put on the leash and is ready to walk out the door with Deborah into the bright sunlight, and light chilly breeze.

Prancer followed her to the door to see them off, but he knows she will be back soon. She felt the way she does when leaving him, or another, behind; a little guilty, a deep sense of loss, relative to the distance to travel. Deborah placed her right hand under his chin, bringing his face up to hers, and she kissed him on his nose, the way he loves it. Feeling replenished then, she made contact through his searching eyes, an ‘I love you’ on her lips. Deborah always makes it a point to say goodbye to those she loves and, in some way, human or not, because you never know if you’ll see them again. Walking outside, she steps out further, into the bright sun, and a feeling of unreality consumed her. Her legs were moving, but she wasn’t sure that it was solid ground that she walked on at first. Taking a deep breath, feeling light as a feather, she went down the stairs and sensed a feeling of fear-engendered weakness engulf her. It wasn’t until she walked down and reached the last step that she felt ‘real’ again. And she moved on, ignoring her negative thoughts completely.

Deborah gets Jake into the van’s cage with no problems. She closes the back doors and quickly gets behind the steering wheel, and starts up the van. She is thinking fundamentally how bittersweet this is; that Jake’s life will change for the better, and she repeats to herself that he’ll have rooms in a house to play in and people to share love with. No more cages, she thought with a smile.

Since this woman she’s meeting with works out of the home, Jake will never be lonely or all alone in the house for long. This seems to be a good match for a dog like him, who needs a lot of attention and reassurance in his life. But Jake was like most other dogs: he was uncertain about what was happening to him, at first, but eager to live a good life regardless. And he’s willing to do his part in assuring just that. And like all animals he has a sense of self, despite what some people think, and so knew that things could go wrong for him since his first attempt at such a life was a failure. So he is a little nervous, but excited, in a good way. Driving North Deborah will be there in about twenty minutes.

When Deborah finally arrives at the house, she notes that another is looking out the window, the curtains parted, and someone looked out, who seems apparently happy to see them. Deborah goes in first and greets the woman adopting Jake, named Barbara, who is semi-retired, and her thirty-something-year-old daughter, Sharon. It seemed to Deborah that they both live together, in this home, though she didn’t ask. That much she suddenly recalls from the original interview. Right now, Barbara is spending her time writing novels, and her daughter Sharon works at the library in town, most days of the week. Most importantly, it seems that they are caring, good hearted, hard working people.

Deborah walked back to the vehicle, opened the rear doors of the van, and put on Jake’s leash again. He jumps out and immediately pulls hard, toward the house eager to explore his new surroundings, while Deborah tries desperately to hold onto him and close the van doors at the same time, eagerly leaving an empty cage behind them. His brown eyes are bright in the sunlight and his black coat is shiny, and soft to the touch. He is eager to meet his new best friends, both of whom already love these sensitive qualities in him, acknowledged when they just met, days ago. And, luckily, it becomes apparent that he has his own walled in backyard to run around in, and get daily exercise.

Hello, hello, Barbara calls to Jake. It is clear that she is smiling and crying at once, and enjoying this life changing moment as well as Jake loves the same. Let’s go in the back yard, she then suggests, eagerly. She opened the gate and they all go in, and the smell of the garden, and fresh grass impinges on their waiting senses, and the result for all is instant joy. And so Deborah let Jake loose from his restrictions. In the corner, on the dark green grass, there are piles of leaves to jump into, accompanied by a light breeze to blow them around; Jake instantly approves. Sharon has joined them through the back door, and now all three stand and watch him, smiles on their faces, tears in their eyes. Jake ran around the yard several times and then finally came around to greet Barbara and Sharon. He seems to love them, immediately, likely recalling their visit to the shelter the day before. His eyes, blinking in the bright sun, and his smile betraying his excitement, and his body wiggles, almost as an after effect of pure joy. Jake is a big dog, and nearly knocks Barbara over when he jumps on her.

He’s so beautiful, what a great dog you are!, she exclaimed, both to the moment they’re experiencing together, and in gratitude thereby; all while holding his precious face in her hands lovingly. Then he turned to greet Sharon in a similar manner, and repeated the same behavior. Jake isn’t the kind to leave anyone out, and he simply adores them both profusely.

Deborah thinks that dogs like Jake seem to love in two ways; and in the first instance, it is the way most dogs act when they initially meet their new human: it is to act as though they love them, and they jump on them, and devote their trust to that lucky person. But they don’t know that person intimately, though they want to. They leave their own well being in the human’s hands, like seeds in damp earth, and give them ‘permission’ to treat them as they wish, and with luck and love, they will be treated well, and will stay with, and love dearly, whoever is to care for them in such a manner, sharing in life’s joys. It is plain to see this growing tendency in the puppy’s or dog’s actions, overall.

So then, when a dog has been with his best friend for long stretches of time, and even for under a year, say, the dog will act in the way the human desires, and the dog will listen and seek to please their human, and he or she will truly love that person forever. And it is assumed here that the dog is not being abused in any way, and that his love is strident and true. Over the years, there will be a special communication between him or her, through various means they will encounter their true selves, with each other growing upon another, and the dog will defend the human, with no hesitation to speak of, and dedicate his life to helping and supporting him in any way possible. It is true love then; and the dog will bask in the light of his owners eyes, and will sometimes ignore anyone else as long as he is with him only.

Deborah thinks it makes sense that an animal, a dog, for instance, would have a greater love for his or her human, over time. The love and dedication will accrue, and the result will be that this dog will love his human more than anyone else, and there will be no doubt. Habit would come into play, and their daily routine will dictate their lives, as they spend each day living out their precious moments, and in a similar fashion, for the most part, until the end of their time together. There would be no vacillating over whether or not these beings would stay together, out of necessity or convenience only. They are intertwined together, with the elements that adhere to each, each a part of the other. The same smells, same tastes, the place they live, are all shared as if they are one large organism, working towards the same goals. And these elements are adjustable, according to the adaptation of both, as each is a mixture of the other. Both sides would love the smell and touch of the other, as they have become familiar; the dog will likely know, by heart, the human’s footsteps approaching, when he or she came home. He or she would likely wait for his or her human at a certain time of day, when she is to return, with little variation on most days.

It sounds like, simply, a routine, in its own right, but it is more than that. The dog will jump around, squeal, and emit such noises that the human would likely know by heart, when he or she came in the door, with the expectations of the other in their mind. It is a reunion of the best friendship there could be, in Deborah’s opinion; no one could replace the human with another, and the reverse is true as well. In between the events, would be the ‘liquid’ or the mist of souls, ones that connect them, in part; the elements of our blood and body congealing and flexing. The wind could be a metaphor as well, as it is relayed to the same place at the same time, when they are together effected by its currents, if only in a symbolic sense. They would then have the same joys; and both will experience the fear that a strong storm brings. Even when the human dies, the dog might mourn, and spend his or her life waiting for their human to come home. Some have heard the stories of how dogs sleep on their human’s grave every night for years at a time, very much aware of where he or she lies in the earth. Or the case where the human does not get off the train or bus, at which time and place the dog waits, because their human has died somewhere, and so never returned. The dog will often wait for years, sleeping by the station, it is said, and refusing to leave under most conditions. So against those who say animals don’t think, or remember as we do, they likely don’t have a dog, at least not a serious and deep relationship with one, as that described here and elsewhere. This love between them is deep and real, as real as love between humans; and death doesn’t separate them, they will live on in memory, if nothing else.

He loves you guys already, said Deborah. A dog’s body language shows everything, hides nothing. Jake is running again, picking up sticks, with floppy ears and wagging tail, and so he displays his ‘doggy dance’ for them.

Come inside, have some coffee, Sharon suggested.

No, I have too much on my plate today, but thank you, Deborah gives them the paperwork, and said Call me anytime, for anything at all. The information is in the envelope.

What can this information they now have give them? Not much, really. Jake is a dog with feelings and love. He will be committed, in his own way, to Barbara, and they will hopefully spend their lives together, up until he passes. But knowing general information can never come close to what ‘knowing jake’ means. He will grow on her, in her, and will give her joy and love, as no human can. He cannot lie, really. He will miss her when she is gone, and will greet her when she gets back, with a royal reception, and no one can give her that as he can. Barbara’s life with Jake will flourish and grow beyond measure, and she would do right to respect him, and appreciate his day to day outpouring of love and protection, under his care, and that is for life, his life. It seems to Deborah that Barbara knows this already.

Oh, thank you so much Deborah! I love him, and he’ll be happy here, I promise, said Barbara.

Bye, take care. Bye Jake! Deborah responds.

As Deborah was driving back to the shelter, she thought again about how rewarding it was bringing Jake to his new home; the thought will continue to light up her whole day, and linger afterwards for months to come. Arriving again at the shelter, she considers the next task at hand. The new dogs they found tied to the railing are now looking at her eagerly, after she walks in the door and looks at them. They both had a snack, and now seem more content and trusting of their situation. Both are tan colored, and bright-eyed, gold in color. They could be twins they look so much alike. And it is a benefit to them that they have each other for company right now. They were put in the holding cage to become accustomed to the new environment, and now they must be attended to, for health and other reasons. They are ready to come out and get used to their new, hopefully temporary, home at the shelter. Deborah just needs lunch, and then she will take both of them out, to be greeted by Prancer himself, as per his role as ambassador.

CHAPTER FOUR

Deborah has always thought about how similar some animals are to one another, including humans. We all share the earth, and its elements, all its pain and love together as we progress through life. We share the breeze when we sit outside; we share the composition of the universe in our blood; we, and almost all animals, share a kind of brain that has similar functions, all in order to survive. But, in all of this, Deborah likes to think that we are individuals, just the same. There is something within us, a kind of center, that is ‘functional’ in determining who we are, and how we act in the world, and we respond to stimulation, and that’s part of what makes us different. For instance, the dogs they found outside, tied to the rail, and shivering in fear, were placed in a cage together; and they are likely related to each other, yet remain independent, with their own will and drive. They huddle together in their cage, and need each other desperately, for many reasons, both physical and emotional. This is a sign that they are both individuals, yet similarly separate enough to want some kind of union to ‘feed’ each other what they lack as a separate part of a whole, and this is needed for comfort and peace of mind in the end. So though they share the world, and that is obvious, they also need to look out for themselves; This is because, they are not really physically complete unless they are enmeshed in some way, with others, and so each needs each part of their connection to one another.

‘This must be true’, Deborah thinks, and for all other creatures and other growth on the planet as well. The trees give