©August 2000
Carol Jane Remsburg
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.