When I was getting ready for work today, I found myself getting more and more annoyed and grouchy. Nothing major put me in the mood: I had my coffee, the weather was nice, I wasn’t necessarily dreading work (especially after the news we received yesterday). Initially it looked like it came out of no where and had no excuse, but looking back on it, I think I could see a few trigger points.
- Money – Isn’t this always an issue? It comes and goes and it really does absolutely no good to worry and stress about it, but the thought of my bank account irked me anyway.
- School – Again, a bit of an obvious one. The last week of classes is slowly creeping up, along with the stress, excitement, and weight of projects, papers, grades, and grad school applications.
- Tiredness – I didn’t get as much sleep as I would have liked, and when I woke up I had a small headache. This probably led into…
- Work – Even though I wasn’t dreading work exactly, I was more annoyed that I had to spend my entire Saturday at a restaurant serving people who don’t feel like cooking for themselves.
And of course, when you’re annoyed, you tend to notice more and more little things that feed your annoyance and crabbiness even though normally they probably wouldn’t even fly on your radar.
What brought me out of my slump was, of course, dogs. I went across the street to Petsmart where a non-profit rescue organization was holding pet adoptions, and said hello to the dogs and puppies they had. An adorable, fluffy, little girl named Foxy leaned right into my hand and lap when I stroked her ears and back. A black and white chihuahua yipped her indignation whenever someone stopped petting her. A chessie/lab puppy attempted to play with every dog that walked by. A tiny black poodle with his head fur in little ponytails wouldn’t let a visiting little boy out of his sight. And that was just a few of them.
Every single one of those dogs, once again, took my breath away in their joy for life, their love for humans, and their wonderful nature of living right here, right now, in the moment. Regardless of where they had been, what they had been through, each and every one of them were happy to be among all the dogs and humans, getting attention or just observing from someone’s lap. You’d really be hard pressed to find such traits among us humans.
One of the head ladies of the organization was telling another woman and I few stories from dogs they had rescued and saved. One was a chocolate lab who had been thrown off a viaduct and landed on his forepaws, snapping them clean. She said people often criticized them for spending so much money on one dog. Charlie the chocolate lab cost $5,400. Another was about a pit bull who had his ears chopped off. An akita that had spent 10 years of his life chained to a tree in his owner’s backyard. A little terrier mix who was hit by a car and then dumped because his owners didn’t want to deal with the damage. A bichon frise mix with live maggots eating a hole right through his body. Then she said,
“People tell me, ‘You can’t save them all.’ And I say, ‘Watch me.'”