A Million Shards of Sound

Arden is in the midst of the cold that won’t end.


Today when we went for her 6 month well baby visit the ped decided that she was unwell enough not to give her the next series of vaccinations.


Which suits me just fine because I can’t stand watching her get shots, a fact that fascinates me since I can give myself shots without a shrug and in the past have cheerfully punctured my horses’ jugular veins to get a Coggins sample.


The appointment was at 8am and our drive is just long enough that I was out the door bright and early. The sun was shining and as I loaded Arden into the car the air was just buzzing.


Car doors slamming, birds singing…..


And then it hit me.


If you’ve lived in New England what I’m about to say will make sense.


Winter here is quiet. Beyond the cold when you walk out the door the first thing, even living in a city like we do, you just are aware that the air around you is still. Sounds like a car engine vibrate off the sidewalk and migrate through you.


Some people say Winter is dead… I feel more like everything is asleep.


Then one morning you wake up and even though the air is still icy on your cheeks and the grass brown and hidden under patches of snow, the world is awash with sound.


Birds clamoring, people walking by, children running to the bus, a million shards of sound combining into the din of life. You have to pay attention to discern what is making each noise


Spring is finally here!


Sure another snow storm may wallop us next weekend but the change is here.


Arden’s first spring.


I can’t wait to finally get outdoors and explore it with her.


Parks, camping, HRC Family Events, Pride, the beach...


Where to start?

Of Human Grace and Compassion

Beyond Arden I spend most of my spare time with animals and animal rescue. Dog rescue in particular with A2Z Rescue.


Although 90% of the time working rescue is out and out frustrating, and since we work with high kill shelters down right depressing, there are also many moments that are miraculous examples of human compassion at its best.


Henry is a Golden Retriever. When we posted him for adoption we were inundated with applications. Everybody loves a Golden and Henry was a lovely example of his breed.


He is goofy and loving, playful and downright cheerful. He hasn’t met a person he couldn’t love or an animal that isn’t his best friend. When happy he bounces like a rabbit.


Henry was found wandering along the side of a road someplace down South. Skinny, emaciated… lost and confused. Dumped? Ran off and lost his way? We’ll never be sure.


Passed as healthy by a vet and aged at approximately 6 years old, our rescue posted him for adoption and I handled interviewing the legions of potential homes.


As an adoption coordinator I can’t tell you why I sometimes pick a home. In a fanciful moment I usually think some guardian angel of animals nudges my brain to pick one application over another.


When I picked Henry’s new home, on paper they actually didn’t meet all the criteria we use to weed out applications… but I kept going back to it. So I called them.


And was thrilled by this family. They were the right ones. I just knew it.


Two weeks ago Henry went home with them.


Yesterday he went to the vet.


Henry is dying.


Henry is 10-12 years old. He has cataracts and is losing his hearing.


He has two tumors and hookworms.


Our heartbroken (and embarrassed rescue) could only offer the devastated adopters the opportunity to turn him back over to us. Since I handled the adoption I even offered to provide him foster care in my own home if that made it easier on them.


But this family simply replied that it was sad that Henry was in such a state and probably was neglected for all of his life and the least he was owed was love, compassion and hospice in his last months.


They didn’t want a refund or money for medicine or vet visits.


They made me cry.


They gave me hope.


They reminded me that not everyone wants an adorable puppy or a shiny young purebred dog.


And that the human heart cannot be expressed on an adoption application.


Because of them I can call a few more people tonight and realize for every disappointment there is that intangible hope waiting in the wings….


For Lexi, Bandit, Amber, Maybel, Oscar, Bubbie, Jackson… the list is endless.


But not hopeless.


Thank you Henry and family.