The Messy Visitor

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The above link is an audio file of what I describe at the end of this story.  I was able to turn on my video feed as I was playing piano that day, but didn’t have available hands to do more than play piano, hence the black screen.

Just two days ago, I found a present behind my house.  A little puppy had wandered into our lives.  I asked neighbors if he belonged to them or anyone they knew.  I posted his picture  on a  couple of lost pet pages on Facebook.  No dog should wander around, but this one was just a baby.  I couldn’t in good conscience look the other way and watch him get run over out in  the street.

So Mr. Puppy became part of our family for a short while.  Eventually, his owner contacted me and Puppy found his way home last night.  But the last two days?

In the last two days, I’ve cleaned up dog poop.  I rescued my shoes from biting teeth.  I woke up at 5 a.m. because Puppy demanded attention then.  You know, all the regular stuff that’s involved when you swap your sanity for being a puppy caretaker.

Part of the whole reason so many of us find ourselves in isolation in the first place is simply we are trying to avoid pain.  Perhaps like me you are a survivor of character assassination.  Perhaps someone close to you has died and you’re afraid another loss or even the slightest bit of more pain will be more than you can handle.  I know, I’ve been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

Because I’ve been there, this is something else I know:  when you isolate yourself, you still get hurt.  Pain is an inevitable byproduct of life here on earth.  And worst of all?  If we have isolated ourselves, we don’t have the support we’d normally get from the people who love us.

But coming out of isolation is uncomfortable.  I noticed this puppy forced me to be in contact with people.  Lots of people.  And meeting a stranger in a parking lot to give her her pet?   I’ve read too many Craig’s List mishaps to feel safe with that scenario.

But also, that puppy brought me a lot of joy.  There was the kind neighbor who offered to take him in to live with him if I couldn’t find his owner. There were the neighbor children who rushed to pet the new puppy.

Then there was something really neat that just happened yesterday.  Puppy was crying.  In desperation trying to console him, I started playing my piano.  He stopped crying and begin singing as I played. I was surprised he was even on pitch.  Then slowly he sang less and less and less and then he fell asleep.

These last two days?  Messy? Yes.  Uncomfortable? Yes.  Would I trade them for a couple of my old boring isolated days?  Absolutely not.

Farewell, little puppy.  Thanks for adding more paw prints to my heart.