Sorting Things Out

There is a fog that hangs over my world these days.  Not as if life is difficult, it isn’t.  More as if there is a need to reach deeper.  Find the answers.  Notice the signs.  The messages as subtle as those may come.  There seems to be this need with my mind, my soul to have more meaning to life.  For others to as well.

The Facebook posts by friends are sometimes upbeat, more times then not, it is something seriously wrong in the world with no real answers of how to change it or redirect for a better outcome.  No resolutions just the reminders that the world is a mess.  Yet I want to see it all change.  Probably we all do however it doesn’t seem that way for the most part.

So many have an agenda to make things worse.  To promote more anger as if enough does not exist. Life doesn’t seem to have much value any longer within the realm of society.  Maybe it never did and I just in a naive way felt it did.  It all seems so insensitive.  So unconcerned.  So undermining.

The other day I caught a glimpse of a small white dog wandering down the street next to my house.  I thought it was the neighbor’s across the street so phoned to let them know it seemed Louise had decided to take a stroll.  By the time I opened the door and made it to the street, some uncaring person who could clearly see her in the street hit her and drove away.  Leaving her dying in the street.  Fortunately a couple of cars stopped.  One man got out of his SUV to stand in guard over her while a woman rushed around to try to find a tag on the sweet little dog.  Other cars passed as if annoyed to be interrupted with their mission to get where they were going.

It was heartwarming how much those who stopped cared about this one little dog.  By the time I walked down to where the dog had been laying in the street, the guy who stood guard moved her with care to the grassy area beside the street.  A young woman removed her tag and called the owners. I told her I thought the sweet dog belonged to the people across from my house.  She took off as if running for a metal in a track meet and rang their door bell.  The angry man, who is always angry, came out to tell her no it was not their dog.  His dinner had been interrupted.

She tried again to reach the number on the dog’s tag and finally a Mother and her two daughters came to the scene.  The Mother repeatedly said she did not know what to do. The daughters did not show any emotion at all.  They stood well away from the sweet dog.  I knelt and rubbed her tummy.  Felt a heart beat. Rubbed her back and patted her head.  One of the daughters told me to feel for a heartbeat, I had to feel under her arm.  So I did wondering why the daughter was not doing it.  There was a beat and so I told them I felt she was still alive.  It didn’t seem to matter though.  The Mother repeated she didn’t know what to do.  One of the other people who had stopped, told her to call the vet.  Finally she did that and was told that a dog can be dead and still have a heartbeat.  That was bothersome to me however more bothersome was that the dog didn’t seem to matter.

They wouldn’t touch her.  They didn’t seem upset.  They didn’t seem to want to be bothered.  They wouldn’t even pick her up to carry her home.  She was only a half block from her home.  So close yet so very far. Finally she was lifted by the husband of the woman who suggested the Mother call the vet, placed in the back of their pick up to take her to what was suppose to be her home.  Yet I have to wonder if none of us were there if they would not have just left her by the side of the road.

I also wonder what they did.  If they gave her a funeral as I would have.  Something I almost offered to do and in the days following have wished I had.  She wasn’t my dog so I felt that may be out of line however I regret not doing so because I have a feeling she was further disgraced and tossed in the alley for the trash people to pick her up or whatever would happen to her.

It was that lack of caring that has remained to bother me with the incident.  The little dog who probably gave more then she received.  Who was just working her way home after a stroll around the block not even being missed in the time she was gone.  She deserved better, it seemed to me.  More respect and care.  By not doing so by the Mother, by not being even sensitive enough to touch the sweet little dog.  By showing no compassion or emotion, a message was sent to her daughters.  That it was just a dog and the life didn’t really matter.

So if the life of the family pet did not matter then what life does.  It is where we are in society.  That lack of caring.  That indifference.  If is not “me” then it doesn’t matter. Just like the person who hit the dog and didn’t stop.  It was an inconvenience to their day.  If they would have stopped and called the owners, not that they would have cared anyway, maybe she would still be happily trying to be a good pet to an uncaring family.  The fact is the people who hit her should have stopped.  Should have made an effort if only in vain.

Not too long ago I was told that I am weird because I bury the squirrels that are killed in the street.  Not so long ago a small kitten, who was not street wise yet and met her death in front of the angry man’s house.  Knowing he wouldn’t bother, I did.  Picked her up and brought her home, burying her next to another cat I found killed on the highway who had wondered the neighborhood.  It is something I have done my entire life.  Something I will not stop doing even if it seems weird to do so.  I don’t think it is.  I think it is being sensitive to a life lost.  To a life that was.  To a life that had a purpose even for a brief while.

It is that sensitivity that I have always had, that I feel is no longer part of society.  The pace is fast.  The approach is indifferent not just to a few, to many and most definitely I feel to older people and to those who are not saltine cracker or fit into the neat little packages that go in the box.

The other day still bothered by the little dog’s death so close to her home, I decided to watch the DVD I bought to treat myself to something lighter.  Something maybe upbeat. Something maybe less serious about the world.  I slipped the DVD in to settle into watch The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.  While I was a bit behind the times since the film was release years ago, I was at long last going to watch it.

It is lighthearted in many ways, yet it presents a profound message that as we become older the dynamics of our life changes.  There seems to be that indifference to us.  We no longer have the purpose we once did.  We search.  We try to find our place and we are perhaps like the little dog, stroll around trying to find our place.  Sometimes it is exactly where we are, just different.  Other times though we must expand our search and stretch.  It is a scary thing to get older.  Some do it gracefully others not so much.  I saw a few friends in the characters in the movie…and saw myself as well.  At times I think some of us feel like the little dog, we may just be looked at indifferently.  Toss to the side of the road and forgotten.  Some of us, like me would like to do more.  Would like to leave something to be remembered.  To have accomplished more then I already have.

So I write these blogs, hoping that maybe a little message in these will tug at someone who hasn’t treated life with respect.  With value.  To turn to our neighbor and treat them with kindness, consideration.  To know, just like you, me, they have value.  If we don’t we may all be just like the little white dog wandering happily home only to be treated with indifference.  I so hope that is not the case.  I so hope we can all smile at our neighbor regardless of who or what they represent.  I so hope we can all have peace in this world and recognize that all people and animals have value.

I so hope somehow it is all sorted out, that the fog lifts and the world is at peace.  So hope.

About annamayfair

Enthusiastically interested in life, well being and art...writer by desire and dream, artist by the soul....friend to animals.
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