The Lesson of Honeybun

Only one speech to go and Asherel would finish her manual in Gavel Club.I believe she gets some sort of title, like "Novice Speaker Able to Talk for Ten Minutes Without Visible Heart Palpitations or eyeballs falling out of your head", or something like that. She had to do her final speech outside of the actual Gavel club class as the coordinator wanted all the kids who were so close to completing a book to have the opportunity to do so. That meant scheduling extra time after Gavel Club ended for the day.

As a result, she would be giving her speech in front of the coordinator, the timer, one other speaker who would go next...and me. So our little group gathered and Asherel gave her speech. A friend and mother wandered in to listen. Asherel's speech had specific parameters that had to be adhered to, the most important being it was to be "inspirational."

The title of her speech was "Honeybun."

In her talk, Asherel recounted how we found the starving, dying, mud-encrusted dog, bereft of newly born pups, covered with ticks. I felt tears start to trickle in the corners of my eyes.
"Don't cry, don't cry, " I murmured inside.
Then Asherel told how we had no money or desire for a second dog but how we ended up bringing her home anyway. She spoke about how Honeybun became aggressive, attacking our other dog, and threatening people as well.  As she continued the story of how we tried to get rid of Honeybun, I was digging my fingernails into my palms so I would not weep. She recounted those hard, hard days, when our every waking moment was centered on keeping Honeybun from killing Lucky or neighbors while trying to hoist her off on someone, anyone else. She told how Hollow Creek Farm helped us work with Honeybun since we had absolutely no knowledge or skill to help the little dog, but we were hesitant to send her to Animal control, knowing aggressive dogs are euthanized.

Fortunately, Asherel studiously avoided looking at me during her speech or she would have seen me biting my lip and swatting at my eyes. I remembered those days, how hopeless they seemed, how insurmountable the obstacles, how impossible the odds of success. I remembered Hollow Creek Farm warning us that this "fear aggression" was the hardest to heal, and could take years. Years! I remember losing weight, taking the dogs on 5 mile power walks twice a day to exhaust them, reading every dog training book I could find, muzzling and tethering Honeybun when I could not be holding her leash. I remember thinking I can not live this way for 5 more minutes. And then when 5 minutes passed, certain I could not live 5 minutes more.

Then Asherel spoke about how she began training Honeybun in Agility. She told about building the agility course out of sticks and furniture in our backyard, and how Honeybun seemed to like it. It became part of her therapy. She told about Honeybun's eventual entrance into Agility Trials, winning ribbons and titles, and transforming over the next 3 years to a docile and beloved pet.

"Saving one little dog doesn't make much of a difference considering all the dogs that don't have homes and are in rescues and humane societies. There are many many more dogs that are waiting to be saved. But for one little dog, for Honeybun, it meant everything."  With that conclusion, her last speech for the school year ended. She had spoken a bit fast, so that it was hard to quite understand every word. Had she slowed down, I might still be sobbing. She delivered her 10 minute speech in 6 minutes. 6 minutes that described one of the hardest years of my life.

When I look back on my life, the things I remember with the greatest satisfaction are the things that were the hardest to accomplish. The most difficult struggles that I felt could not be overcome, but somehow...were....those are the memories that give me the most joy.  Of course, like everyone, when I was going through those struggles, I was pretty ticked off at God at times.
"Why did you send me this dog, and then watch me suffer financially, physically, emotionally, for 2 years after I did a kind thing? Is that how you repay compassion!? No wonder so few people reach out to be the Good Samaritan if this is the result!"

It is hard to value the lesson, the transformation, while you are enduring it. In fact, it usually hurts to the point where you are not certain you can bear it. It is so easy to toss your crumpled dreams and life into the nearest waste basket and settle into all the piles of scratched out, erased, and mangled hopes.

Those little victories, eeked out in the midst of battle after battle after battle of a world that seems bent towards hopelessness, complacency, and despair may make little difference in the grand scheme of things.....
but in the end, mean everything.

Isaiah 57: 9
¹⁰ You wearied yourself by such going about,
   but you would not say, ‘It is hopeless.’
You found renewal of your strength,
   and so you did not faint.

Job 6:10-11

¹⁰ Then I would still have this consolation—
   my joy in unrelenting pain—
   that I had not denied the words of the Holy One.
 ¹¹ “What strength do I have, that I should still hope?
   What prospects, that I should be patient?

Psalm 31:24

²⁴ Be strong and take heart,
   all you who hope in the LORD.