The Measure of a People

President Zelenskyy was not the most popular of Presidents when the Russian invasion of Ukraine began. That turned instantaneously when asked if he needed a ride to safety and his reply was he didn't need a ride, he needed ammunition.

That, my friends, is the measure of a leader. He has done nothing but enhance his image ever since.

Now, what about the Ukrainian people? Right or wrong, I often judge people by how they treat animals in general and pets in particular. If they don't like animals I doubt I'm going to like them.

The news clips I can't escape have shown hundreds and hundreds of Ukrainians fleeing their country with little more than a backpack and, yes, their pets. Everyone from the tiniest of children to the elderly. 

Pair that with both the men and women who have stayed to fight and you have a people worthy of the admiration, and yes, the staunchest of support, from the world. Why are they not getting it?

Well, take a look around at the hand wringing of the world's leadership.  Heaven forbid we should irritate Putin. It might escalate the war. I don't think the Ukranians want to hear it.  They're losing the country they love chunk by bloody chunk with every day that passes. 

Do our leaders really believe Putin will stop with Ukraine? One thing he is known for is telegraphing his intentions. We knew this is coming.  We also know the Baltics are next. And NATO. 

If I were a young man and able, I think I would probably join the Ukrainian cause. Even if in reality it would be tilting at windmills. Putin's wars have to stop. If our leaders don't have the moral courage to do so, may the people have the strength. 

If someone doesn't come forward, and soon, we too shall be hit one way or another.  All because we're afraid of one man.  What's wrong with us?

Going To The Dogs

I'm paying much more attention, though it often takes some looking, to stories about the incredible good that goes on within our communities.  The type of activity that reminds me when put in the right hands all will be well. I need the mental boost.

Often such stories involve animals, in this case dogs.  Put a dog with a youth at risk in our area you don't get abuse, you get a miracle.  That is if the kids are engaged in a program called Pawsitive Works.

You've seen it work with adult offenders, you've seen it work with returning vets with problems, why shouldn't dog therapy work with kids?  What better match?

For five weeks youngsters are paired with a dog from local shelters and work with them three times a week. What a teaching tool.  Perhaps the greatest thing  learned is about love and that it goes both ways. And more.

Think about what is learned about how a dog acts and being able to translate that to people.  How a dog learns.  What motivates them.  It's all a positive two way street.  They even learn how to say good bye which is probably the most difficult part. Yet it is paired with the satisfaction  of knowing that a formerly unwanted pet is then adoptable because of your efforts.

Here the program began in somewhat remote Bonner County but is spreading.  The story that caught my eye was about the program in one of our local alternative schools.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if it caught on across the country.  Kids and dogs both getting a new lease on life.  It doesn't get any better.

It Was The Best Of Times...And The Worst

People who love dogs know there is nothing in the world like them.  Least of all people.

Shortly after we lost our Saint Bernard Bacchus a new one came into our lives via You Tube.  Jub Jub.  At the time just months old and as owners of new puppies do, his owner flooded You Tube with videos of their adventures.  I received an invite that I would guess went to every Saint fan he could find.

It was all of our Saints all over again rolled into one.  I couldn't wait for new ones.  The timing was great because it helped heal the pain of my loss.

With time inconsolable grief turns into happy memories and you move on. At least it did with me and Jub Jub's young man.  He moved, the videos became less frequent but we were friends on Facebook and I check in every now and then.

Time came to clean some things out of our game room.  Sitting in a corner was a cardboard cut out of Beethoven I've had for 20 or so years.  I picked him up from our local video store just after we lost Oaf who had preceded Bacchus as head Saint in our household.  I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather pass him on to than Jub Jub and his human.  All because of their relationship - it's special, at least to me.  He's there now, in a place of honor on the wall above Jub Jub's sleeping space.  It seemed a happy and fitting thing to do, I had healed.

But you never really do.  My niece called me today in tears.  She had just had their greyhound euthanized.  The vet suspected a neurological problem for some time and yesterday it manifested itself to the point of no return.  She described it to me, her anguish palpable.  It brought back all those feelings as if my own experiences with Bacchus, all my dogs, had been yesterday.  My eyes are moist now.  For my niece and her family, for her Treason and all our pets that have gone before.

It hurts.  Oh my, I had forgotten how much. I grieve more for my dogs than I do for most people. I don't recall who said that dogs aren't your whole life but they make your life whole.  How true.

Such is the joy and the sorrow of allowing yourself to love that deeply and be loved equally as much in return.  Run free Treason.  That we could rejoin our dogs at some point in eternity would make all the pain and turmoil we live with in our earthly existance more than worth it.

Good Bye Old Friend

No, not Bacchus.  He left us two years ago this month.  It seems like yesterday and we still miss him terribly.  It's the couch.  His couch, really. He played on it, ate on it, we snuggled on it but mostly he slept on it.

We've had it for better than 20 years.  It was a purchase we made from the model house we bought in Simi Valley.  That was back in the eighties!  It has been recovered only once - when it moved from living room into family room.  Then we let our guard down and allowed the dogs on it.  Most came only when invited.  Bacchus owned it.

Recently I've had two good friends lose their dogs.  One unabashedly declared not only did he love his dog, but he was in love with his dog. Then wondered if we understood the depth of his feeling.  Of course we did.

The other, being a Buddist, is hoping her dog will return to her via reincarnation. Not being Buddist, I'm not sure how that works, but again, the depth of feeling.  Being widowed and totally alone she feels lost without him.  I worry about a degree of obsession with her but I understand the grief.

In time I hope the zest for life without their beloved pets returns.  Ours has though it has been  a slow process.  Mainly I think because we haven't and don't plan to get another dog.  There are a slew of reasons.

Reminders remain around the house though.  There are still some cans of food in the laundry room pantry.  His Mutt Lucks and grooming tools.  A couple of water dishes.  I still find tufts of fur stuck under a piece of furniture seldom moved.  And the couch.

We decided when he first got sick, when we knew the couch was due for replacement, that we wouldn't get rid of it as long as we had him.  And so we kept it, and kept it and kept it.  It was comfortable, well broken in and pretty thread bare.  Yet we were reluctant to make that move.

But it's time now.  New recliners suitable for old couch potatoes have taken it's place.  I'm happy with them for they too are comfortable.  I'll miss that old couch though.  It was a part of what made the house our home.  I miss the old dog too, who was even more so.