Hope

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I recently heard of a dog training program in a women's correctional facility in which inmates rehabilitate and eventually find homes for problem dogs.  The women are in charge of every aspect of care-taking and training of these "last chance" dogs - much like a foster mom.  The program takes two socially peripheral groups and allows them to form bonds and work cohesively to emerge stronger and well-balanced.  Brilliant!

The women are incarcerated for a variety of reasons and have plenty of time to form human-canine bonds.  These bonds in turn allow them to experience a kind of honest love that they might have been lacking in the outside world.  All the women interviewed discussed how they had gained trust and self-confidence by working with the dogs.  One went so far as to say she felt "love without the stress to reciprocate it" from the dogs.  What a statement!  So ready or not, the dogs were there to offer their affection and loyalty.  The barriers were down, the purity clear.  

The idea that this kind of relationship could do so much for these women left me in a state of shock.  Although I'm aware of how powerful that canine-human connection can be, I never thought of it changing a life so wholly.  I imagine that being in jail is a truly life-sapping, bottom of the barrel kind of experience.  But then to find that ray of hope!  That single "other" that doesn't care about your crimes or where you are, only that you are there and you are connected!

Now imagine that you are one of these women.  That you have known great pain and little if any love.  That you did something terrible and got caught.  That you are hopeless and tired.  That you have many years ahead of you to live confined.  Now imagine that you're lying on your mattress at night with a warm head on your stomach.  Soft breathing comes more slowly now and you think about waking up to feed and walk the small body stretched out next to you.  Tomorrow is a new day and somebody will be there to share it with you.  Tomorrow.

Hope

Hope is a forward-looking longing.  A moment to seek something beyond ourselves and to see it in a positive light.  I have the feeling that this coming year will bring change.  And I have hope that this change will be good, long-overdue change.  My blogs have been few and far between as of late, a symptom of my mood, I'm afraid.  Every time I've sat at this computer and decided to blog, I've had writer's block.  Not for a lack of trying, but nothing noteworthy has really happened.  Or so I've felt.  The routine has been monotonous and I've felt in a rut.  The girls have been doing fine, same routines as always, the kiddo's been mostly good and the job's the job.  So why discuss hope now?

I can't pinpoint exactly how things have already changed, although I know there's been a turning away from negativity.  There've been moments of despair and frustration, particularly involving Matty's work, T's behavior and the ever-heavy financial burdens that never seem to improve significantly.  All of these things, along with the negativity of several particular individuals has weighed heavily on me as of late.  What I've realized just recently is that it's not these influences that have become louder, but the amount of volume I've allowed them to have in my universe.

Each day, Arwen eats first.  A nod to her queen-bee status.  She is the Elder, the Deserving, the First.  Nyxie can't help but voice her displeasure.  She'll whine softly from the other room, impatiently awaiting her chance at yummies.  Arwen's focus is like an arrow knocked on me.  There exists nothing in her world save the singular (yet complicated) act of creating and serving her dinner.  Her blue eyes trained on me, watching my every move. There exists no whining, she is the only dog on the planet.  What I see in those ice blue eyes is hope and focus.  She has a goal and she will not stop until it's won.  Poor Nyxie in the other room, seemingly forgotten.  But she's far from forgotten.  Arwen is quite aware of her and if I were to bring Nyxie into the room, Arwen would shoulder her away and let her know in no uncertain terms that she is in the way!

There are goals that I've formed for the coming year.  Spiritual, professional and financial.  Like Arwen, I must have this singular focus.  There will be distractions, there might be negativity, but how much of this do I allow in?  Can I keep my eyes forward and shoulder away intrusions?  A born leader, Arwen's a great example.  Even the whining from the next room can be ignored.  I am looking forward, with the hope and focus of a Husky at dinnertime.