An Attitude of Gratitude
Ah, Thanksgiving… A time to look back on the past year and think about all those things for which I’m truly thankful. A time to reflect on all the wonderful people who make Hinsdale Humane Society such a great place to be. But mostly, a time to look down at my food dish and wonder where it all went!
I think it’s really easy for pets to be thankful. After all, we are completely dependent upon you for all our needs. You give me food, I’m thankful. You sit down so I can snuggle on your lap, I’m thankful. You rub my belly, I’m blissfully thankful.
You take me for a walk and… I’m barking out my thankfulness. It’s just a perpetual attitude of gratitude.
What do cats do when they are happy? They purr. What to dogs do when they are happy? They wag their tails. But for people, sometimes it’s hard to tell whether you are happy. Oh sure, sometimes you laugh, but in general, the two legged beings I see are rarely joyful. You sometimes lack an attitude of gratitude.
Humans seem to have it all. Things like attractive clothes (not those dorky, uncomfortable sweaters you make me wear when you are cold.) A variety of food (try eating the same old kibble, day in and day out). The ability to come and go as you please (When was the last time you were cooped up in the house for hours on end and bored beyond reason? Lacking opposable thumbs, it’s not like I can turn on the TV and watch Animal Planet, you know!)
I think humans could learn a lot of things from the pets in their lives. When someone gives you a cookie, act genuinely appreciative by jumping up and down. When you see a friend on the street, give them a sniff or a kiss and express how happy you are to see them again. Tell someone they are a good girl or a good boy and just watch their attitude change. It doesn’t hurt to frequently tell them that you love them either! If you spread an attitude of gratitude, I think your friends, co-workers and family members will be happier in general.
Hinsdale Humane Society is so appreciative of all the people who help animals in our community. Whether you adopt or volunteer or sponsor an animal or just spread a little joy to all the pets, we appreciate your support. The animals send along their wags and purrs of praise for all you do!
So as you “paws” to think about all your blessings, please remember to be truly thankful for things like family, friendship, food, good health and shelter. Isn’t that what life is all about for both the two legged and the four legged creatures among us? Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!
Until Next Time,
The Waiting is the Hardest Part
Have you ever wanted something so badly that you didn’t think you could possibly wait? The anticipation of that thing… or that event… or that morsel of food? Sometimes I think if it doesn’t happen this exact second, I might just explode with excitement.
The waiting is the hardest part. But I have discovered that if you wait patiently, sometimes the experience is actually better than you could possibly imagine.
“Wait. Wait.” That’s what dad says while he’s getting yummies from my treat jar. If I jump up and down and bark like a maniac, he just makes me wait longer. But if I sit quietly and pretend I’m a perfect dog, the treat magically appears. The waiting is the hardest part.
We’ve been waiting for A Fetching Affair gala for almost a year. The clipboards and the spreadsheets and the auction items are all ready to go. We have the bid paddles. (This is better than having the bad piddles!) Months of planning have gone into this single event. It’s a chance to celebrate 60 years of improving the lives of animals in the community and to thank everyone for helping us come this far. But now we just have to wait for that magical, perfect day to arrive. The waiting is the hardest part.
Staff member Christie just did some major waiting. She had three babies in her tummy and the doctors were trying to keep them in there. Sometimes patiently waiting isn’t all that easy. At the hospital they had her hooked up to monitors and machines with wavy lines. But you know what? They let her dog Fergie sneak into the hospital for a visit. Because sometimes what is needed isn’t more monitoring machines. It’s the companionship of a furry friend. It’s easier to wait when you’re surrounded by unconditional love.
The babies have arrived! A litter of triplets! Mom tells me that three babies are a really big deal. I once knew a lab who had 12 puppies. What do they call that? Dozenuplets? Triple quadruplets?
Now Christie has even more waiting, because those three human babies aren’t ready to come home yet. They have to get bigger and stronger. She misses them and the babies miss their mommy. Perhaps they are all hoping and dreaming of the day when those precious, beautiful lives will all be together.
Sometimes I have to wait for mom and dad to come home from work. Mom is at a meeting or dad runs late because of traffic. But my tummy is hungry. My bladder is full. My boredom is skyrocketing. I can only bark at so many squirrels until barking starts to lose its charm. The waiting is the hardest part.
The animals in the shelter have to wait, too. They wait for the staff to feed them and take care of them. They wait for the volunteers to come in and walk the dogs or play with the cats. But mainly they wait for new families to call their very own. Even though shelter pets have nutritious food, yummy treats, lots of toys and comfy beds, they can’t be fully satisfied until they find their forever homes. And the waiting is the hardest part. I know, because I used to do that, too.
But one day the right family arrives and they fall in love. Because good things come to those who wait!
Until next time,
The Raccoon Who Lives in my Attic!
My family has a raccoon. We don’t actually own a raccoon as a pet. This guy adopted our family and moved into the attic uninvited. Needless to say, no one is very happy with the arrangement…except Mr. Raccoon.
He just chewed a hole in the roof and walked right in. What nerve! The days aren’t too bad because he snuggles into the insulation and naps all day. I like a good nap myself. So all day we have a sort of détente. We peacefully co-exist.
The real trouble usually starts at about 2:00 AM when everyone is completely asleep. Mr. Raccoon starts to climb up the roof. Scritch. Scratch. Scritch. Scratch. To which I say, “Alert! Alert! OMG! The raccoon is back!” But the people in the house just hear “Bark. Bark. Bark. BARK!”
So Dad gets out of bed and starts banging on the wall. Sometimes with his hand and sometimes with a shoe. But the raccoon is on the roof and not paying attention. Sometimes Dad starts screaming, “Get out of my house!” Which I find hilariously funny. One, I don’t believe Mr. Raccoon understands a word he says and Two, I don’t think he really cares.
Then Mom starts yelling, “Michael, stop that! Zoe, be quiet! I’m trying to sleep!”
So the whole thing sounds like this: Scritch. Scratch. Bang. Bang. Bark. Bark. Stop that! Zoe, be quiet!
Mr. Raccoon crawls through his own personal entrance hole in the roof and settles in for the rest of the evening. Now a reasonable person would ask, “Why don’t they patch the hole in the roof?” They did, but Mr. Raccoon is quite persistent. They have patched with wood, shingles, metal flashing, nails, glue, you name it. Multiple times. He just tears it all apart. One night it took three hours to tear off the patch. Mom got so frustrated, she tried sleeping on the couch. She tried. It didn’t work.
Of course you know that Mom works for the Humane Society which advocates for the humane treatment of all animals. Even trespassing raccoons who destroy property and disrupt the household. The so-called wildlife experts recommend placing a spot light in the attic because the raccoons like to sleep in the dark. We tried that and it didn’t work. We also tried placing rags soaked with vinegar in the attic, because the strong odor is supposed to drive them away. But Mr. Raccoon doesn’t mind.
Finally, we tried placing a radio in the attic. It plays LOUD music 24 hours a day. We have the only raccoon in the state who sleeps in a light filled attic that smells like Italian dressing. And Mr. Raccoon loves rock and roll.
PS: Since I wrote this DogBlog a couple of years ago, the raccoons finally moved out. Yes, I use the plural, because Mr. Raccoon was actually Mrs. Raccoon, complete with babies! After months of annoyance, the hole was completely patched, the insulation was repaired and life was good… until the squirrels moved in! I guess the word on the street is that my house is the place to be!