Gut instincts

Ever have the instinct to lunge in without catching yourself? I try to do it with every possibility. Sadly, age and experience have gotten the better of me. Trying to remain blind is hard.

I was working for Pizza Hut as a delivery driver when it happened. A dog, well built with a tan hide, weighing in at 80 plus pounds, began running alongside my car. He was limping. He wasn’t neutered. His face was bloodied. Without thinking I began following the dog. It didn’t matter that I was working or that I had a customer’s food in my car. All that mattered was that help was needed.

I followed him for 3 blocks; he didn’t like it if I drove too close. Or if when he paused I would get out of my car and begin walking toward him. Eventually he ran up to a yard, later known to belong to his owners, and collapsed out of breath into a comfortable seated position. He began to lick his wounds. Immediately I jumped out with a first-aid kit in tow, and knelt down in front of the beast inspecting his wounds. He didn’t bite, he didn’t growl. He just sat comfortably panting in my face to reduce his stress and pain. Applying a combination of stinging alcohol swaps and soothing hydrogen peroxide, his bleeding was controlled and manageable. I educated his owners on proper clotting agents, materials to improvise as gauze, and treatment to manage the wounds as they couldn’t afford a veterinary bill.

I wasn’t harmed by the mistrusting creature and I didn’t receive a reward for the deed. We were eye leveled and alone and he knew I wanted to help. He chose to allow my presence. And his owners were grateful.

Animals are trusting creatures with an acute perception of emotional intelligence. They are able to judge character and behavior based on pheromone and chemical changes within a body. They choose to respond in manners that are fitting for any given instance.

I worked in Haiti as a member of a missionary group to assist in educational development. I taught ESL. The compound I stayed in had 4 adult dogs and a group of puppies. The puppies were nearing three months of age but appeared to be one month old. They had learned in their harsh world to fight quickly for resources, as they are scarce; especially meat. One of the puppies, having honed his survival skills and appearing to resemble a three month old, dominated his siblings in a voracious manner. His needle sharp teeth would ripe through masticated flesh, all the while his smaller counterparts would stand back with grumbling tummies.

I walked onto the compound, fresh from a shower and finished with a day of work when I saw a few of the adult dogs pacing back and forth. A quiet mournful ambiance filled the opened air. There before me was the tiny puppy choking on a bone he had gulped down too quickly in order to avoid competition. Darwin’s theories were at work. The eldest of the dogs, a retired female with sagging teats, skin sunken to her bones and fleas burrowing in her flesh, the most malnourished of the adults, kept at bay those passing by to witness the spectacle. I again found myself on my knees asking to help the injured little one, desperately pleading with this ancient creature to grant my help. Her tail wagged and she licked my hand urging me to save the pup. My attempts were feeble and her pleading whines to continue his life accompanied my tears. I rubbed the tiny dog, until he passed away. I patted on his back, unsure of what was happening with him, as he passed away. It was only after he was buried that I had learned of him swallowing more than he could chew. I never even thought to glance in his mouth to look for a lodged substance.

I act without thinking. It is my nature and I will continue to do so. I only pray I never lose this trait and that I’m given every instance to help.