Lucky dog

I've been reading a lot lately about dogs in crisis, from Patrick — the "miracle" pit bull who was starved and tossed in the trash like garbage but survived — to Wonder, one of the many fortunate dogs featured on Lucky Dog Rescue Blog. With each story and photo I see, I become more and more determined to aid in the prevention of animal cruelty.

Last year, after a tumultuous breakup with my boyfriend at the time, I was forced to give up my beautiful chocolate Labrador, Guinness, because I couldn't afford a place to live with him. At the time, it was the hardest decision I ever made and I still feel its repercussions today. Every day. But given I know he's now living in a happy, loving home, I am okay with my decision to give him away. Still, I can't help but feel that despite our end, Guinness was brought into my life for a reason. He gave me a purpose that I still feel even today, without him. He showed me what it means to love a dog.

Although I may not be able to take on a dog of my own, or even foster one looking for his or her forever home, I can still help them in some way. Last year, I started volunteering at a local animal shelter and I've written newspaper columns about my adventures with different animals to spread the word about animal welfare and well-being. It's small, but I'd like to think it helps bring awareness to the cause.

At my office, I have no fewer than 10 photos of my pets adorning the walls and my desk. Nine of those are of Guinness and my boyfriend's French bulldog, Frenchy, the other is of my first cat, Sylvester. Each photo tells its own story. I picked each one because of the emotions they evoked, from myself and my friends. I want to smile and cry at the same time just looking at them, by sheer virtue of the fact that they're so cute.

How can anyone not love animals...or at the very least tolerate them enough not to torture and abuse them? It astounds me that people hurt animals. Violence against each other isn't acceptable, but we have the capacity to defend ourselves from abuse in some way, whether physically or verbally. We have the option of attempting escape or calling for help. Animals don't have that luxury; they can't even tell us when or where they're hurt. If they're tied up and starved, they're dying a slow, painful death, and they can't cry out for help. 

I tell my boyfriend my sole goal in life is to buy a house with a nice yard so I can adopt a dog (or two, or four!). Then, at least then I can make sure that one lucky dog will have the life he deserves: a life of love and comfort.

I applaud those people who devote their lives to helping animals. It's a noble cause... maybe one day, I can be a part of it.