A World of Grief

In proofing the copy of my book, I was struck again by the world I had found myself plunged into- animal rescue. I had known nothing about the depths of suffering that animals endure for human pleasure and comfort. But my year of rehabilitating the dog we rescued, Honeybun, and of working with Hollow Creek Farm Equine and Canine Rescue  (HCF) taught me that human beings are not very kind to the creatures they are supposed to be caring for during our mutual stay on our melting planet.

I have been reflective of late, as I reread the book and ponder the lessons of Honeybun. Would I be able to do it all over again? If I found another dying dog with all those horrendous issues, could I manage to do what I did with Honeybun? HCF deals with this every day, and has for years. Honestly, I don't know how they do it. I don't know how I did it with just one dog.  After talking with some very dear people who asked me to tell them about Honeybun's story, they joked as they drove away, "I sure hope we don't see a dog dying on the side of the road as we head home...."

And that's the thing....a strong conscience will not let you keep your eyes closed forever. And suffering dogs are just one small part of the suffering organisms here on earth....what about the house spiders getting trampled on in every kitchen millions of times a day, not to mention starving children in Africa? It is overwhelming the amount of grief that lurks at every turn. No wonder as a people we drown ourselves in drugs, and alcohol, and stupid television shows.

When I was a little girl, I remember going down the street thinking about things like this even at the tender age of 5,  and crying. I remember one of my parents' friends stopping me and asking why I was crying. I immediately stopped crying, shrugged my shoulders and trudged on. When he was out of sight, I started crying again.

So I went kayaking with Asherel to have an hour of communing with nature, with man and creature in balance along the lovely Catawba river. I know the better choice to walking down the road crying is to seek the good, do the good you can, and trust the results to God. I peacefully dipped in and out of protected coves along the shore, watching the Great Blue herons hunting, and then settling into their nests overhead. Peaceful quiet enveloped the river and turtles popped their heads out into the sunlight.

Suddenly there was the high pitched roar of a jet ski. The water beneathe me became an ocean of waves as it roared past me, obviously ignoring the sign, "SLOW-- no wake."  Perched on the front handlebar, held firmly there by its owner was a daschund, with its long ears whipped straight back. It had a look of terror on its pointy little face.

So much for harmony of man and creature, I thought.

Ezekiel 34:2-4

² “Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel; prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign LORD says: Woe to you shepherds of Israel who only take care of yourselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? ³ You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock. ⁴ You have not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. You have not brought back the strays or searched for the lost. You have ruled them harshly and brutally.