We got out of the van and headed into the gray colored building.
As we opened the glass doors, a chorus of yelps and howls came rushing out to
greet us.
"Good morning. How can I help you?" The dark-haired lady
asked us from behind the 3 foot wall.
"She's here to volunteer." I pointed at my daughter who
stood next to me, hands behind her back.
"Okay. Well, here's a leash, you can just walk on back and
take the dogs or cats out for a walk. There are bonding rooms where you can go
also." She handed the leash to us, and pointed at the double doors.
"Okay, thank you. Where do we go?" I asked.
She pointed at the door to her left, and then waved her hands
behind her. "It's just right here, just go through those doors, there's
pod A, pod B and pod C next. Then you can go outside. There are cats and
kittens and dogs, and they are up for adoption; that way is the adoption
area." Her tone was that of someone slightly irritated. She rolled across
the floor in her chair, like she was glued to it.
"I'm not really clear on where all of these places are. Do
you mind showing us around? This is our first time here."
She grunted as she pushed herself up and out of her chair. (I'm
guessing we were interrupting something very important to her.)
Her walking tour wasn't much more informative than her behind the
desk tour, but at least we saw the areas first hand. She ended the tour at the
outdoor area for dogs. She passed the blue leash to my daughter and disappeared
back into the building. A row of cages, at the edge of the building, sat facing
a large cement area and several small pens. A chorus of yelps, varying tones
and pitches, beckoned us to come for a visit.
Annabelle walked to the first cage, put her hand next to latch,
and let the large brown dog sniff her hand.
"Hey there fellow. How are you?"
He responded with several loud barks.
She put her hand beside the cage and he licked her hand. She put
one finger through the small wires and rubbed an eye brow. Finally, when she
decided it was the right time, she opened the cage a little and put the leash
on his collar. He bolted through the the gate, jerking her arm and body. She
lurched forward. "Woe boy, Hold on!" He ran towards the wooded area,
pulling on her arm. She pulled back and kept him close to her. He lifted his
head sniffing the air. He pulled her towards the small pen with a group of
puppies that barked repeatedly while jumping up on their fence. After a 10
minute session of walking, pulling, ear and belly scratching, she returned the
brown dog to his cage.
She opened the next cage, and repeated the greeting. "Hello
and how are you?" Again, she put her hand next to the cage and let the dog
sniff and lick her. With a little more caution, she placed the leash on the
collar. The small brown dog, probably only 6 months old, pushed open the gate
and kept his nose to the ground as if he was trailing an escaped prisoner.
"Must be some type of hound. Look at the way he's keeping his
nose to the ground." She said.
After a few minutes of walking, she sat on the ground beside him,
and talked to him. "You like your belly scratched? Yea, you like that
don't you?" He responded with a low moan of pleasure. We took him in a
small pen and tossed him tennis balls and chew toys. Annabelle knew when it was
time to put him back in his cage.
"Come on, back you go." she said with a cheerful tone.
She came to the next cage, and an all white dog, with a gray
spotted face, sat looking up at her. No bark. Just a look. Annabelle put her
hand next to the cage."Hello, and how are you?" The dog just looked
at her, still sitting.
"You wanna go for a walk?" She reached for the
latch and the dog pulled away from the door as she opened it.
"Hello sweetie." She reached in a rubbed the dog's ears
and head. She clipped the leash on and stood up, "Come on, lets go for a
walk!"
The dog slid back further from the door. Annabelle tugged the
collar a little and coaxed again. "Come on girl. Let's go for a
walk!"
The dog looked up at her with big brown eyes, yet didn't move.
Annabelle squatted down and stepped halfway in the cage, while
rubbing the dog's head and whispering in her ear. I didn't know what she was
saying, but I could tell the dog was listening.
The dog put her nose on Annabelle's knee and Annabelle put her
forehead on top of the dog's head. More whispering. Next, the dog inched closer
to Annabelle, laying her whole head on Annabelle's leg. Something just
happened. I couldn't tell you what, but some type of communication. The dog
leaned closer to Annabelle and my heart lurched again. A tear trickled out of
my eye.
An employee approached and asked, "Is she adopting that
dog?" I wiped my cheek with my sleeve.
"No, she's volunteering here today." I said.
"Really?" He walked away. "Look at her." I
wasn't sure who he was talking about.
When I turned saw Annabelle sitting in the cage with the white
dog. They were having a deep conversation and the dog was now laying her neck
across Annabelle's legs. Next, the dog lifted her head and put it on
Annabelle's shoulder.
"Okay girl. Now let's go for a walk."
Annabelle crouched out of the cage, and tugged on the leash. The
white dog took a small step and stopped.
"Come on. It's okay."
She took another step, stopped, then took another, as if there
were land mines all around.
"Come on girl. Let's go for a nice walk."
She took one small step, then another, and slowly came out of her
cage. We went to the enclosed large pen where they played and talked to each
other.
"Look, she's had surgery!" Annabelle said, while rubbing
the shaved area of her abdomen.
"Yes, she's already spayed." I responded.
I watched her, amazed at the interactions. So pure, so free, so
natural. How does she know
what to say to the dogs? How does she know what to do? It's a gift she has. And
it's a gift for me to see it.
She took her back to her pen, rubbed her ears and whispered
something else to her.
"Let's go see the puppies now."
We spent the rest of the time with puppies, kittens and cats of
various weights, colors and temperaments.
Throughout the remainder of our time, the thought, "She
talked to the white dog, then she climbed in the cage with the white dog!"
continued to hit me in the heart. Finally, I asked her how she knew what to do
with the white dog.
She responded to me with a question. “What would you have done?”
“Well, if she didn’t want to leave her cage, I would have left her
in there and gone on to the next dog.”
“Oh really? Well, she was scared, so I talked to her.”
“What did you say when you were whispering to her?”
"Well, the first thing I told her was that she was
beautiful."
I've been schooled by my daughter, once again.
