©August 2000

Carol Jane Remsburg

 

 

From Behind the Gate

 

 

There she sits behind the gate waiting for someone to come and love her.  My poor little Sissy dog is my friend.  I feed her.  I cuddle her. I adore her.

 

She wished freedom from the fence and beyond the garage and yard that is her home.  Sissy wanted to run, explore, and roam.  She just didn't realize what was real for a very long time.  Once she did, she shared it with me. 

 

Her breed isn't a named breed other than "mutt."  Her parentage was purebred of two different breeds; one pit bull (the father), one shepherd (the mother).  She's still a mutt and a good-hearted one at that, and yet she has security needs.

 

Within the confines of the garage and 'shop,' Sissy has constant music, cool or warm air depending upon the season, a fluffy bed, warm people-food, and a 360o of the premises outside of the front of the house.  Still, she whined.  She wanted more. 

 

Each morning and late afternoon, I arrive.  We cuddle and kiss and huddle.  She's older now, nearly 10, but Sissy will act like a baby once spying anyone's arrival.  There is the ritual of the water and not to mention the food.  Food for her cannot be "dog food."  On the off chance I'm bereft of leftovers and offer the revolting conventional dog food, my baby refuses to eat.  I end up feeling horrid and make eggs—her favorite food.

 

From behind the gate, she sees the traffic roll past, she sees the butterflies and bees drone by.  In her small world she spent years focuses on everything outside and not much on what she had.  She's so like the rest of us.  It's a wonder she has four legs instead of two like we.

 

Most people do what my Sissy does.  I've looked, reached, and yearned for what I have not with little appreciation for what I already have.  No, I will more readily see all the things I don't have or the things that need attention rather than what is good, solid, and steady.

 

I have a family who are healthy and who love me.  I have a home that is mine, not perfect yet it's sound.  I have friends that I care for and we know we are there for each other.  I have my mind and my abilities and a body that will perform what I require from it.  The sun shines and the rain falls, sometimes the winds blow.  I am safe, I am loved, and I can make a difference.  I even find that on occasion that I am even important.

 

From behind the gate it doesn't seem possible or even probable, yet we can and we are.  Often we simply refuse to dare ourselves.  We appreciate little and will beg for what we already are.  We simply haven't discovered it yet.

 

I like my life behind the gate, but I like enlightenment so much more.  The latch on the gate does open.  It opens not to an outer-world but an inner world.  It's a world with more freedom and less fear than that of the physical sphere.  My Sissy dog knew that before I did.  Still, she smiles at me and loves me.  She knows I still have room to learn.

 

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