It’s Sunday morning, and I’m sitting up in bed with good coffee gazing out over our sunny morning garden. Across my legs lies Poppy, a medium-sized fawn-coloured dog who came to us through my son Sam who worked for many years at our local Animal Welfare clinic.
Poppy
When Poppy arrived, her ribs stuck out on both sides of her thin body. Sam had brought her home because it was the coldest time of the year, and she was living in a cage at the clinic while her broken leg healed. Sam’s bedroom became a step-down facility and Poppy discovered the heater. In a knitted sweater she wore, she faced the heater straight on to stay warm. When she was eventually introduced to the lounge, she would sit facing the fire as close as she could get, with her jersey still on.
Poppy is now grown up and tall. As she lies on the bed alongside me, she stretches from my waist almost down to my feet. On walks in our local park, she runs like a greyhound along one of the fences where a pack of Border collies wait for the chase. Sam taught her to swim, and she now dives into our pool on her own, and swims with great joy, waiting expectantly when anyone looks like they may be heading that way with a bathing suit or towel. She finds sticks and plays with them herself or climbs under the trampoline to play in the leaves that have been collected there. Poppy’s key to freedom was her broken leg.
One of the ‘golden girls’ in South African sport was Natalie du Toit. She was an Olympic swimmer before she lost one of her legs in a motorcycle accident. She then went on to wipe the board at the Para Olympics and win awards at the Olympics again. Our wounds too can be our key to freedom. Sometimes our true mission comes from our wounds, the things we battled with, without which we would not be who we are. We all have wounds of some kind, whether it’s an illness, a broken limb, a dysfunctional family life, depression, anxiety, no opportunity for formal education, or simply being a minority, over which you have no control. Our passion can come from our pain, and many times the most difficult part of our lives presents us with an opportunity. We get a view of life that many don’t. We experience things from the inside that perhaps the world doesn’t understand from the outside.
I don’t believe everything that happens to us is ‘fate.’ But we each have an opportunity to use those things that have been difficult for us to help others, to make the world a better place, and to lift ourselves as we do. Poppy doesn’t walk around with a hang-dog look, with a tag that reads ‘I’m the dog with the broken leg’. Instead, her tag reads ‘Born to be wild’ and she is alive with enthusiasm for every swim, diving into the pool from the step with unbridled joy or running like the wind on outings.
Poppy’s friends
Poppy is not alone in our home. Katie, whose tag reads ‘Star Paws’ lived under a container when she was young after being put over a wall in a bag.
Allie was rescued on the West Coast with mange and infected ears. From a sad and exhausted dog who was driven from one rescue event to another, she is a force of nature with a tag that reads ‘Small dog, big attitude’ and a second tag ‘Daddy’s girl’ which is spot on.
Douglas was sold to us, riddled with fleas, from inside the jacket of a young boy who needed to get rid of unwanted puppies. He had been taken from his mother too soon. He is the biggest of our dogs, and his tag reads ‘Super Dog’ with the Superman badge above it.
Scruffy we found late at night dodging cars in our local village. We were not sure he was a dog at all since he had very little hair and small pink feet. He turned out to be the king of the roost, and we still miss him dearly after he died from old age. He was proudly tagged ‘Mommy’s boy.’ He was no longer lost, he belonged.
Max
Max, a relative newcomer to the pack was rescued from a home where he was well looked after but locked up for many months without being able to get out, with absolutely no toilet training. His owner who would have cared for him dearly had become so confused it was difficult for her to manage herself. We took him in temporarily when she moved into a care home.
As it happened, Grandpa who had lost Granny and his dear Labrador, was lonely. Max became a new source of hope and companionship for him. Despite his very dysfunctional start in life, he was the best carer we could have employed as he brought fun, entertainment, and companionship to an old person. He now lives with us. It’s probably time to change his ‘Obedience school dropout’ tag and see what happens.
Wounds and hope
We all have wounds of some kind. Life is far from perfect. But you don’t have to have grown up in poverty. You might have grown up in a home that offered you anything your heart desired, except love. Or attended the best schools only to feel lonely and disconnected. But you also might have grown up in a home where you worked by candlelight, but there was hope and encouragement.
If you are reading this, your life is not done. I am increasingly disturbed by posts on social media that show success alongside yachts and flat cars, and those that suggest all you have to do is follow your passion and you’ll never work another day in your life.
The truth is you still have to get out of bed every day. There are hopefully parts of your day when you do lose track of time and enjoy every minute of it, but it’s not necessary to be in a state of perpetual bliss to be fulfilling your mission here on earth. Sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it’s an uphill battle, and sometimes you might question what you are doing and why. Joel Osteen has said life prepares us for what we need to do. Sometimes that preparation comes through privilege, education, passion, and enthusiasm. But it can just as easily come from hardship, pain, and a broken leg.
Maybe, like Poppy, your broken leg will take you places if you are willing to wrap yourself in a warm jersey, find a place that warms you, find people who care for you, and become your own ‘Super Dog’. Maybe it’s time to trade your ‘Oh Crap, I’m lost’ tag for ‘Not all who wander are lost’ or maybe ‘I escaped! Mwah, ha, ha!’
And if like Max you’re still wearing your ‘Obedience school dropout’ badge, perhaps it’s time for a new one. How about ‘Super Carer?’
©Andrew Bramley, November 2023. All rights reserved.