I have this one little dog, the barker, if you’ve read other posts. She’s a rescue gotten at about one year of age. Dear God, I understand how she ended up on the give away pile. Aside from the ceaseless barking at everything, she throws up every night.
We’ve taken her to the vet, changed foods, medicated, had wildly expensive tests run. Even the vet has thrown up his hands. She is also kinda mean. She looks like a toy stuffed animal so children love her. I always have to warn them – careful kids, she’s a bit of an ass – only in kid language. And, if a big emergency vet event is going to happen it will be because of her. The last time she ruptured an anal gland. Time before that she popped an eye vessel. We won’t even go into her potty training issues.
She hated men when we first got her. I’m convinced the hillbilly who was the man of the house was probably one of those “it’s not a dog unless it’s a certain size” little endowed men who abused her. (Can you tell I have opinions, fully unfounded conjectured opinions, here?) She’s come leaps and bounds from that fearful dog.
The kids and I have taken to saying she’s just broken. Because she really is, so broken. And that may be why she loves us and particularly me so well. She’s found her home of broken birds where we embrace the beauty in the brokenness. She’s safe because in another home she would have ended up on the give away pile again. With us, she’s home and she can be her confused, mean, bat shit crazy, funny, sweet upon occasion self. Like I said she loves me for a reason.
We all need someone to embrace us for who we are with all of the cracks, breaks, uneven lines that make us. I’ve never been one to poke fun at things other than in a high level silly way. And even then I know sometimes I risk the chance of breaking someone or something even more than they already are. I don’t want to be the person who comes through swinging only to shatter beyond repair the vase that’s already been glued and mended so many times it looks like a fresco painting.
Mainly I want people to know that most of us are lost in the woods and often the more together we appear the more lost we are. It’s easy to appear together when you’re aiming for that bright light. It gives you focus and perceived urgency, even if the path you’re on leads to certain death. Confidence, however unfounded, is seductive.
Neil DeGrass Tyson said in one of his Master Classes that if you’re confident and secure you’re no longer on the Frontier. You may be ‘moving and shaking’ but you’re not on the cusp, in the fray. And isn’t that where we all want to be? On the edge, of whatever greatness we aspire? In spite of our deep seeded insecurities and (some of our) tendencies to self destruct? How can you ever get better when you’re so very sure of everything you are and do?
IMO, the fray, the imperfection, sounds worlds more intriguing.