from my "IN BETWEEN DOGS" series- Part II - SWEETIEPIE: the shelter dog held as "evidence" in a Humane Law case

Part II - SweetiePie, the shelter dog held as "evidence" in a Humane Law case

Dear Beloved Readers — If you’re new to this page, I am sharing some previously published (as well as some unpublished) pieces from my series on volunteering at an animal shelter called “In Between Dogs” which ran in the late great Bark magazine for a year or so. Here is the second installment — I believe this is a longer version that the one that appeared in Bark. PS - The dog’s “real” name at the shelter was Angel—I had to change the dogs’ names in these essays for privacy protection. But enough time has passed for me to be able to reveal this sweet girl’s identity.

“I CARRY YOU IN MY HEART”

by Lee Harrington

After publishing my most recent piece in [BARK] magazine—the first installment of a series called “In Between Dogs”(Bark Issue 83, Fall 2015) about my new experiences volunteering at my local animal shelter—I received a number of messages in which readers wrote: “I could never do what you do. I could never go into a shelter and see all those homeless animals. [It would be too depressing. I’d want to save them all and bring them all home with me and it would break my heart that I can’t.” I got so many responses along those lines, in fact, that it made me realize that the main point of this first installment probably wasn’t well-conveyed. Or at least not properly emphasized. (Such is the curse of a long-winded writer restricted by limited word count). And so, while it feels creepily narcissistic to quote myself, here is what I wrote: Witnessing suffering (and human cruelty) has the potential to change us forever. Certain images might sear themselves into our minds and implant a new pain. And...who is brave enough to carry more pain? The answer is: all of us. We just need to be willing to take the first step.

Let me reiterate: All of us are brave enough to help animals—or help anyone, for that matter. Because on the other side of that potentially “new pain,” beyond those brief moments of possible heartbreak, is something incredible, deep and profound, something that takes us to a place. Compassion.  I like to call this place the “courage-beyond-the-courage.”

I’m thinking of a dog I’ll call SweetiePie—a Pitbull mix with fur the color of caramel and a face shaped like a heart. SweetiePie was in residence at our animal shelter for over a year, basically being held as “evidence” (I think) while waiting for her human’s Humane Law case to go to trial. The man’s crime? He had shot and killed his girlfriend’s dog. Why? Who knows? Logical answers do not apply in situations like this. Anyway, SweetiePie was seized and held at the shelter, for her own protection perhaps, until the court date. I honestly don’t understand the stipulations regarding our county’s humane law cases—so please don’t regard me as any kind of authority on the matter here. Nor am I judging those stipulations and/or how things are done at our shelter. But for some reason volunteers are not allowed to interact with “HL dogs” like SweetiePie. No handling, no petting and no—if I understand correctly—walking or socializing.

Some of you recall that my official position as a volunteer at the shelter is “dog socializer” which means I hang out in their kennels with them to snuggle-and-cuddle, and/or I take them out to the play area to toss a ball, and basically get them accustomed to the concept of a kind human who is there to help them, not harm. I also do a form of energy work on the dogs called Pranic Healing and I sing Tibetan medical mantras to them. If you’re a crazy dog lady like I am, this is basically a dream-job come true.