| General Non-Fiction posted June 21, 2022 |
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For all of us
The power of love
by Wendy G
Unusual circumstances brought Honey, a beautiful almost twelve-year-old Golden Labrador, into my life.
Her owner, with the same name as my nephew, was going overseas. Honey was the name of my childhood dog. Meant to be. No-one else wanted her. Their loss was my gain.
She was regal and gentle, patient, loving and loyal. Her placid sweet nature drew people like a magnet. She adored children, happily playing tea-parties with toddlers, and watching toy trains running along tracks carefully constructed around her.
Through Honey I learned about that special community of people who love and respect dogs. I joined that club, which covers all age groups and social levels. Honey sensed sadness and intuitively comforted any-one in distress, even approaching strangers and gently nuzzling them. She brought happiness to lonely elderly neighbours who could no longer have a dog. When she died, after three years, I was beside myself with grief. We buried her outside the bedroom window and I've made a beautiful garden over her grave. It is flourishing!
However, the depth of pain surprised even me. On reflection I think it was her unconditional trust and acceptance – no need to earn her love, for she offered it freely. It was reciprocated. Without her, I simply could not face walking: every path, park, and neighbour reminded me of our special shared moments.
Eight months later we found Sunny, who needed a new family. Love at first sight! He's a caring and wonderful teacher.
He has taught me to laugh again, watching him do zoomies with his toys. He shows me how to observe, feel and really "see" nature on our walks, and to be flexible about time. "Mr Personality" is very sociable – for him, time simply exists to be filled with friends and love, offered and received. Rarely a day passes without him making a new human or dog friend. He's teaching me to recognise signals that his knees are aching, by taking the initiative in heading home. I've learnt to respect his choices about distances.
I'm learning a skill I never knew I needed – how to tie shoe-laces while rubbing his tummy, simultaneously pushing away his insistent flailing paws begging for more. He insists on being my special boy; his jealousy is amusing - for no special littlies may have more time or hugs than him!
Sunny flies through his doggy-door at great speed if birds dare to fly low over "his" air-space during the day, but "needs" me to accompany him outside first thing in the morning and last at night, to wait and watch. Very cold in winter – and he can't be hurried.
He's also an admirable student, having learned to type! He writes poetry and stories sharing his whimsical observations about humans, and now has friends all over the world.
We are inseparable, communicating without words, and with full understanding.
Honey the therapist and Sunny the teacher, my two precious rescue dogs, have fulfilled and enriched my life beyond measure.
Tell Us About Your Pet(s) contest entry
Unusual circumstances brought Honey, a beautiful almost twelve-year-old Golden Labrador, into my life.
Her owner, with the same name as my nephew, was going overseas. Honey was the name of my childhood dog. Meant to be. No-one else wanted her. Their loss was my gain.
She was regal and gentle, patient, loving and loyal. Her placid sweet nature drew people like a magnet. She adored children, happily playing tea-parties with toddlers, and watching toy trains running along tracks carefully constructed around her.
Through Honey I learned about that special community of people who love and respect dogs. I joined that club, which covers all age groups and social levels. Honey sensed sadness and intuitively comforted any-one in distress, even approaching strangers and gently nuzzling them. She brought happiness to lonely elderly neighbours who could no longer have a dog. When she died, after three years, I was beside myself with grief. We buried her outside the bedroom window and I've made a beautiful garden over her grave. It is flourishing!
However, the depth of pain surprised even me. On reflection I think it was her unconditional trust and acceptance – no need to earn her love, for she offered it freely. It was reciprocated. Without her, I simply could not face walking: every path, park, and neighbour reminded me of our special shared moments.
Eight months later we found Sunny, who needed a new family. Love at first sight! He's a caring and wonderful teacher.
He has taught me to laugh again, watching him do zoomies with his toys. He shows me how to observe, feel and really "see" nature on our walks, and to be flexible about time. "Mr Personality" is very sociable – for him, time simply exists to be filled with friends and love, offered and received. Rarely a day passes without him making a new human or dog friend. He's teaching me to recognise signals that his knees are aching, by taking the initiative in heading home. I've learnt to respect his choices about distances.
I'm learning a skill I never knew I needed – how to tie shoe-laces while rubbing his tummy, simultaneously pushing away his insistent flailing paws begging for more. He insists on being my special boy; his jealousy is amusing - for no special littlies may have more time or hugs than him!
Sunny flies through his doggy-door at great speed if birds dare to fly low over "his" air-space during the day, but "needs" me to accompany him outside first thing in the morning and last at night, to wait and watch. Very cold in winter – and he can't be hurried.
He's also an admirable student, having learned to type! He writes poetry and stories sharing his whimsical observations about humans, and now has friends all over the world.
We are inseparable, communicating without words, and with full understanding.
Honey the therapist and Sunny the teacher, my two precious rescue dogs, have fulfilled and enriched my life beyond measure.
Her owner, with the same name as my nephew, was going overseas. Honey was the name of my childhood dog. Meant to be. No-one else wanted her. Their loss was my gain.
She was regal and gentle, patient, loving and loyal. Her placid sweet nature drew people like a magnet. She adored children, happily playing tea-parties with toddlers, and watching toy trains running along tracks carefully constructed around her.
Through Honey I learned about that special community of people who love and respect dogs. I joined that club, which covers all age groups and social levels. Honey sensed sadness and intuitively comforted any-one in distress, even approaching strangers and gently nuzzling them. She brought happiness to lonely elderly neighbours who could no longer have a dog. When she died, after three years, I was beside myself with grief. We buried her outside the bedroom window and I've made a beautiful garden over her grave. It is flourishing!
However, the depth of pain surprised even me. On reflection I think it was her unconditional trust and acceptance – no need to earn her love, for she offered it freely. It was reciprocated. Without her, I simply could not face walking: every path, park, and neighbour reminded me of our special shared moments.
Eight months later we found Sunny, who needed a new family. Love at first sight! He's a caring and wonderful teacher.
He has taught me to laugh again, watching him do zoomies with his toys. He shows me how to observe, feel and really "see" nature on our walks, and to be flexible about time. "Mr Personality" is very sociable – for him, time simply exists to be filled with friends and love, offered and received. Rarely a day passes without him making a new human or dog friend. He's teaching me to recognise signals that his knees are aching, by taking the initiative in heading home. I've learnt to respect his choices about distances.
I'm learning a skill I never knew I needed – how to tie shoe-laces while rubbing his tummy, simultaneously pushing away his insistent flailing paws begging for more. He insists on being my special boy; his jealousy is amusing - for no special littlies may have more time or hugs than him!
Sunny flies through his doggy-door at great speed if birds dare to fly low over "his" air-space during the day, but "needs" me to accompany him outside first thing in the morning and last at night, to wait and watch. Very cold in winter – and he can't be hurried.
He's also an admirable student, having learned to type! He writes poetry and stories sharing his whimsical observations about humans, and now has friends all over the world.
We are inseparable, communicating without words, and with full understanding.
Honey the therapist and Sunny the teacher, my two precious rescue dogs, have fulfilled and enriched my life beyond measure.
 Recognized |
I have included Honey's photo as many already know what Sunny looks like. They are very different in looks!
Before Honey became ill, she was offered a position at the local retirement village and nursing home, to be an official therapist dog, with unrestricted access and visitation rights. She would provide love and company for those without family or regular visitors.
Sunny has luxating patellas, where the knee-caps pop out of place and then back in, which is quite painful, and arthritis is starting.
He canâ??t really type of course, and the stories he writes are really typed by me - but he tells me what to say! Sort of!
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Before Honey became ill, she was offered a position at the local retirement village and nursing home, to be an official therapist dog, with unrestricted access and visitation rights. She would provide love and company for those without family or regular visitors.
Sunny has luxating patellas, where the knee-caps pop out of place and then back in, which is quite painful, and arthritis is starting.
He canâ??t really type of course, and the stories he writes are really typed by me - but he tells me what to say! Sort of!
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