The Fruit Of Someone Else’s Labor

I truly thought I was doing it right. 

You know, that cutting and eating an avocado thing. Sadly, that all changed after this crept onto my retina today.

It's never good enough that I make sure I eat a big, fat healthy avocado every day. Nope. I used to think in doing so, I was somehow in the lead. That I was maybe on my way to the fruit race finish line. Where all the awesome people were. 

But somehow, somewhere, there always needs to be that brilliantly talented, opportunistic jerkface, with a perfectly ripe avocado, and a full set of archeology tools, to prove you wrong. You know, just popping in to remind me that I'm a highly uncreative, boring as fuck simpleton, with my avocado sandwiches, and salads and mouthwashes. Boring! 

Whereas this avocado...ahahaaa... this vision of beauty, magically appearing on my newsfeed just to hammer that final nail in the 'You pretty much suck at everything you do, Dawn', coffin, and to make sure beyond the shadow of an avocado pit's doubt, that I realize that I'm not fully utilizing an avocado's creamy centers to their fullest potential.

Unlike this master of life, every day I partake in the meek, boringly nutritional, caveman chore, such as the act of slicing the flesh of an avocado, and then continue creating my masterpiece by mining out it's mushy centers with the careful acuity and finesse that only an oversized tablespoon can provide. 

Then I slap it on a piece of toast, smear it everywhere...on the toast, the plate, probably my hair... like I'm on LSD during a light show, and then jam it down my throat with the elegance of a starved alligator swallowing a kicking gazelle. 

Art.

And then I see this flawless visual, and fall nauseously into a fetal position heap and wonder why I've been so creatively short-changed. Simply reaping the dense nutrient profile of an avocado, is 100% for sure, only for lazy, trite, talentless, predictable, peasant, fruit-eating common folk, such as myself.  

Next time, carve a detailed bas relief of Gandhi in a flowing robe into your lunch flesh Dawn, or sit the fuck down. 

Lesson learned.

Even in the avocado world, there's always someone who'll one up you.  

StayHumble. 

~dawn

How's That 2018 Treating Ya?

Has your anticipated 2018 calendar of events proven to be as erroneous and disappointing in it's predictions and outcomes as the Mayan calendar of 2012 was? 

Were you hoping the new year would have brought you new happy things, changed your old habits, solved your cholesterol problems?

A calendar doesn’t have a caring soul. 

A calendar doesn’t have goals.

It doesn't want to be an entrepreneur. 

It doesn’t seek your approval.

A calendar need not worry about finances for it’s survival. 

Nor does it worry about yours. 

A calendar doesn’t have empathy nor compassion for your hardships. 

Time is busy running the universe and confusing the shit out of all of us in the process.

It’s not concerned about your bills, your declining portfolio, your startup ideas, your disappointing friends, or your weight management issues.

According to the silly parties and wrongly scribbled check dates that happened a few weeks ago, I believe it’s 2018.

Yet all it is, is just another day. 

Another ill-defined moment in time, in a string of ill-defined moments that we're simply breathing in, day after day after day, attempting to give both meaning and definition to.

It's really just 'Happy New Day', another daily at bat. Another opportunity. Either an opportunity to do things exactly the same, questioning nothing, mirroring our yesterdays, or an opportunity for operating differently. For living more courageously. For becoming more.

2018 will come and go, just like 2017 did. And just like the rest of us will.

To a planet who has it’s own, non-bias survival objective, 

every living, breathing organism on Earth is sadly and inevitably mulch. 

(Especially if you’re buried in one of those cool Bio Urn’s(®)and can become mulch to a tree of your choice. I think I'm gonna choose to be a grapevine so I can have access to wine at multiple points. But that’s another story altogether.)

What you do with your pre-mulch existence, has only to do with you and your mind’s willingness and dedication to manifest something different into it. 

Set new standards for yourself. Work less, live more. Spread love and wellness. Do more for others. Whatever. 

Within reason, you can do whatever it is you want. And by all means, have high expectations and reach for the moon. But don’t expect to be a basketball player if you’re 4’11”,250 lbs, and built like an ottoman. Critical honesty in your abilities, as important as high goal setting.

As we inched and clawed our tired, lethargic 2017 asses towards the ’New Beginning’, the ‘Happy New Year, it’s 2018!’ starting point, we created hopeful resolutions and wishlists that attempted to reinforce a belief in our future successes. 

'I want to be this'er, and that’er. Make this much, lose that much. 

Be more X, less like Y.’

The intentions were good. 

But much like the flavor of a piece of paper wrapped bubble gum from the bubble gum vending machines, it rarely lasts.

But for a little while, we DID believe we’d do something life-shattering (or in my case, thigh-shrinking). Because as this collective energy ball (not the oversized Time’s Square Disco ball) of human thought got closer and closer to a new calendar year, while even though a somewhat fictitious one, there's always an almost palpable, positive, and transformative group energy in the mind's of so many people. It’s a physical train of positivity that we all hop onto, in hopes of an easy ride over to the self-improvement station.

At that time, we are all relatively thinking and feeling the same sentiments at the same time: Time for something positive, time for new energy, time for personal growth. New beginnings. Empty the closets. Both metaphorically and literally. Shed the bullshit. Do like Rumi said and drop the dead leaves (Although more eloquently ). Reach higher. It’s coming! We all feel it. So it happens. It begins to manifest because there's such a strong, collective inertia behind it. 

Off we go. We start doing it!  Look ma, no hands! 
It’s happening!It's really happening!

At least for a few minutes.

But sadly, shortly thereafter, the fade-off sets in, and after a few weeks of putting in the work, the majority of once gung-ho, 2018 party participants will casually creep back into old habits and predictable lifestyles.

And our previously clear and defined 2018 goals start to take on a more hazy, amorphous shape. 

And eventually, so does our non-gym-going asses.

The show is over, the curtains closed, the 2018 magician has left the podium, and one by one, people start to walk away from the celebratory hoard. We start to disband from this collective group of higher expectations. Our cheerleaders all now back home microwaving popcorn. Or stringing pom-poms…or whatever it is cheerleaders do in their free time.

And once again, all of our too familiar self-doubting and personal sabotaging techniques start to rear their ugly heads.

But not to get discouraged!

No big deal that it's 2018.

It’s just a starting point number we made up based on Christ’s birthday.

The Jewish calendar says it's 5778. 

Mayan calendar, 3114 

Universe calendar, 13,772,983,654.

It’s rather arbitrary.

You can always make up your own brand new starting point.

It can be right now. 

February 11, 2018, 11:08 a.m.

To hope the new year provides you with all the good shit you’ve ever wanted out of life, is arrogant to assume and hope that 2018 is this servant who comes strolling up to your bedside every morning with all the solutions to your 2017 problems laid out on a silver platter.

It’s not gonna happen. Nor will it happen in 2019. Or 2020, or 4012. 

(I don’t know, maybe 4012. They’ll definitely have some cool, overly capable robot servants who could 3D-print you a bedside, silver plate by then. ).

But until then, it’s up to you. We live in a world where we still poop and flush it down a little watery hole, and have silly things like Presidents and #FLOTUS’s.

So the impetus to foster change will need to come from inside of you. 

And it only happens from knowing you're the only one responsible for all your bullshit, everything in your life, and therefore, the only one capable of completely changing it.

Except for your eye color, texture, amount, cellulite, or lack thereof, (to hell with all of you with the lack thereof), talents or addictions, annoying laugh or blood type. You can blame or thank your ancestors for that one. 

But all the other stuff, the personal hangups, wanting a healthier life, the attitude, the constant pessimism, the anger, jealousies, the shitty job, the boredom, the daily Ho-Ho’s, addictions …the list is endless. No calendar change will ever have the capability of changing 

any of that for you.

Only you do.

Happy February 11th.

Go change something for the better.

Trial By Fire

11:51 a.m. 

Snow is gently falling outside. At the moment I'm sitting on my fireplace hearth, typing this with my back to a blazing hot fire, as I smell burning oak and hear the soft crackles of embers becoming more of themselves.

This having no heat is actually kind of cool. No pun intended here, and nothing facetious about that. I'm speaking from my heart.
And while it’s not exactly ’normal’ to have no heat in the middle of January, I’ve realized, nor am I.  

Nor are you. 

We are all unique and do things our own way. We are all subject to curveballs and happenstance. Look at the people around the world whose homes have gone up in flames, flooded, or disappeared right in front of their eyes. Who have lost their loved ones, pets, everything they’ve ever had, worked for known or loved.

How dare I even complain an iota about no heat. 

How dare I.

Not having heat yesterday and today, and last week having to manually refill my tank for an entire week, has taught me just how much I actually have. And having a lot is a gift, and doesn’t come easy…nor should it ever. 

In the past 6 years, stepping outside my comfort zone is a direction my life has aggressively embraced, chased, been subject to, And has increasingly intrigued me because I’ve learned that sudden gear switching is always where some type of personal growth is hiding. 

This silly running out of oil issue, is really just a strange affirmation that I tend to do things differently. That I'm okay with pushing the envelope. Okay with maybe procrastinating with some things. Okay with not being neurotic about everything at all times. (…i said ‘sometimes'...) Okay with maybe doing things at my own pace. Not being conventional, and in this case, not signing a contract/paying for oil deliveries that I didn’t even order. Ridiculous. 

I do things my way, true to my own belief system. Somehow secretly craving the fallout of this path and all it’s glory. Whether it’s comfortable and/or uncomfortable and awkward, strictly for the challenge, the learning curve and the storytelling by-product. I genuinely believe this to be the truth for all we do in all of our lives. We choose / create the situations in our lives rather intentionally. Subconsciously at times, perhaps. But we create them nonetheless. 

We are all creators.

That said, sometimes there may be a small price to pay for marching to the beat of your own ….handmade drum…. made out of banana peels, and thumbtacks and a supermarket garbage pail ... instead of leather, mango wood and steel rivets. In this instance, it was a rather bearable price. Granted, frustrating for a second, because I'm pampered living in a world of mega supermarkets and uber overall conveniences. 

But in reality I just needed to make a fire, keep that going, put on a few more layers of clothes, and bundle my dogs in poofy blankets, and smile as I await my delivery and repair at some point today. That’s the ‘big' adjustment. 

I have a brand new refrigerator, and a beautiful working kitchen. 

I have access to piles of healthy food, I cook, I have a Jeep with a full tank of gas to take me anywhere I’d like to go, (ps I’ve never run out of gas while I'm driving yet, but I’m sure that’s just a matter of time) and friends who will lovingly accommodate if need be. There’s electricity in every corner of my home for light, paints to create with, unlimited computer access to learn from, books to snuggle with, healthy kids, loving pets, and a phone that’s smarter than even the most educated people in the world, all for the asking. 

And as an added bonus, there are no starving, bloodless predators running through my living room, ready to eat my face off. 

That’s pretty lucky.

During the night, my faux down comforter, piles of blankets, and 3 boiling snuggling hot dogs kept me super warm under my heap of bedding, and I slept like a baby. 

Even though babies don’t sleep.

Today I awoke feeling super lucky for everything I have. I’ve always felt lucky…really fortunate. But there's something about a little struggle that always turns it up a notch. 

My nose was a little cold, but that's more because it’s long and was probably touching the window across the room while I slept. But my heart was warm with gratitude and appreciation for being adaptive, resourceful, and lucky enough to have a home and so many other amazing privileges.

So please don’t feel bad for me. At all. 

I’m glamping, for fuck’s sake. 

This is awesome. 

:)

~d

<3

Starting The New Year With A Bang

Every morning around the same time, I feed the birds. Today was no different except it was my first day back home since the yearly calendar date has changed.

With a bag of birdseed in one hand, and a Ziploc® bag of shredded bread and crushed almonds in the other, I slip on my puffy new Christmas slippers, open the door, breathe in 5 degree air, tippy-toe across the snow covered patio, and quickly fill the various feeding feeders and spots for the animals.

With immediately frozen nose hairs, dead digits, and now solid lungs, like some hunched-over, scared frozen ape, I quickly scurry back across the snow, joyfully making the return path back inside.

Glancing at the door of my warm, coffee imbued abode that has been left ajar, with my now iced-bottomed slippers I decide to gracefully glide back inside by leaping over the door saddle, taking a 7’ wide giant jump inside like some Olympic long jumper wannabe, and onto the waxed wooden floors.

Much like a 1940's Tom & Jerry cartoon, I slip so hard that the bottom of my left foot was parallel to the sky, and my head bounced off the floor with the conviction of a basketball dribbled by LeBron James during playoffs.

In some abstract position, seen never before by man, like some genetically deformed fallen snow angel sporting half a bag of birdseed in my ear canals, I just laid there and laughed, and laughed like a tickled toddler.

Hello 2018. Starting the new year with a bang.

Let’s do this.

WESTPORT CT HUMANE SOCIETY: Not All Cute Kittens And Fluffy Bunnies

                                      Meet KIM.

We’re going to be talking a lot about KIM, so I thought I should properly introduce her to you.

Over the past 20 years, I’ve adopted a lot of animals. Everything from dogs abandoned in garages, to lizards, to flying stray dogs back to the U.S. from Arkansas, and Costa Rica, so they can have a loving home.

Anyone who knows me, knows my level of love and dedication towards animals, and will happily vouch for that.

Loving all animals comes super easy for me. But there’s nothing more special than when you find an animal you feel you share a special connection with. That happened to me 2 days ago.

In the past several months, I decided I wanted to rescue another dog. 

And I thought, what better place to start searching than by going into the local Westport CT. Humane Society. 

The one right on the Post Road, across the street from Trader Joes. 

And the one I also happened to adopt one of my other dogs from, about 15 years ago. My beautiful coonhound, Dixie. Who sadly passed away last year at the age of 14, in my living room, while I held her in my arms.

The first time I had gone to The Humane Society, I went in to see a little dog, and asked if I could just sit with him and see if we liked each other.

From across the room, an authoritative order was barked out by a rather unhappy looking girl named KIM.

‘YOU CANT JUST HANG OUT WITH A DOG. IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN THE DOG, YOU NEED TO FILL OUT AN APPLICATION.’ 

ME: Oh sorry. Since when? I adopted my last dog from here, and I was able to sit with her first, to see if I was interested based on her temperament. I guess that changed. No problem, I’ll fill out the application.’

KIM: ‘You can’t just PLAY with a dog if you’re interested in them.’

Me: ‘Never said I wouldn’t fill out an application if I was interested. I am just surprised because I hadn’t done that several years ago with my dog Dixie. 

At least not that I remember. No problem, I’ll fill out an application.'

The girl continued to have a noticeable snarky, short, attitude for the duration of my visit and inquiries. Not sure she even smiled once, and had a palpably judgmental tone and aura about her, that only a person-to-person interaction could do justice in explaining.

Over the next few days, I came back a few times to look, and while there were many cute dogs there, I didn’t see a dog that would’ve been right for my family dynamic.

A few weeks later, on Wednesday, September 19, I decided to check my phone app to see if there were any new dogs there. 

A dog named Sally immediately jumped off the page and into my heart. 

Perfect in every respect. At least on paper.

I stopped whatever it was that I was doing, jumped in my car, and drove straight to the Westport CT  Humane Society to check her out in person.

I had also noticed the dog I had initially went in there to see, several weeks earlier, (who wasn’t ultimately right for me) was finally adopted! 

That made me really happy.

I walk in to The Humane Society, say Hi, and very happily say…’ I'm so happy to see Chloe was adopted! That made my day! But I'm actually coming in today to see Sally! I don’t even know this dog yet and I'm already in love with her!’

I was talking to a young girl named KIM, who I’ve now had several exchanges with over the weeks.

Exchanges that are continuously, detached, self-righteous, self-important, and straight up cold.

KIM'S response about the dog I came in to see: ‘Sally’s not very friendly. She’s extremely shy, and aloof, so i’m not sure you’re gonna like that…'

Me: ‘Not a problem. I have no problem with shy dogs! She’s probably shy because she’s in concrete cell, hearing other dogs barking around her all day. And just wants to get out of here.'

KIM: (no comment)

Me: 'Can I see her? I also want to fill out another application, (so it’s on record that I came in for her.)'

KIM: ‘No, we can use your old application.’

Me: ‘But that says another dog’s name on it that I was interested in a few weeks ago. They’ll be no record of me coming in for Sally.’

KIM: ‘ It’s fine’.

Me: ‘Um…Ok...Can I go back there just to take a quick peek before you let her out?'

Her: ‘Yes.’

I go back into the kennel room, and she immediately comes right over to the front of the cage, licking my hand, kissing my face through the bars, and basically doing everything an amazing, friendly, loving dog does. 

Couldn’t be any friendlier.

I come out and say…’OMG, I'm already in LOVE with this dog!!!’

I ask a few more questions, and she tells me of all her inoculations, that she has been there for a week, and that’s pretty much it.

I say: ‘Sounds good!’

KIM directs me into one of the small meet and greet rooms.

I wait there, crosslegged on the floor as she brings in Sally.

KIM walks in, with Sally in tow.

KIM sits down with me and Sally, and shuts the door behind her. 

Not even giving me any first interaction time with the dog. 

Sally immediately runs over to me, climbed into my lap, gently jumped all over me and gave me many, many kisses.

Me: ‘This is the dog you said was aloof? Hahahaha Omg she’s SO friendly!!! She’s AWESOME!’ 

 We play, and play….

KIM solemnly sits there, and continues to ask the same questions she asked me a week earlier, that were all written down already on a questionnaire, 

about my current dogs, their personalities, how they play, if they play rough, if i exercise them, how I exercise them, how often I exercise them, if they’re loud dogs, if they bite, if it’s a noisy household (...because 'Sally is jittery’)….etc, etc. etc… 

Understand. Have to make sure the dog will be safe. However, A) that’s why you bring your dogs in to meet each other BEFORE you adopt, 

and B) not one of my answers were met with any type of positivity, or smiles, or even a modicum of genuine excitement in my interest in adopting this dog. 

I’ve had a dozen dogs in my lifetime who all lived to be old and happy and were never crated, or sent to kennels if I were away, and were loved beyond conditionality.

And honestly, the way this girl was treating the interview, it was as if she were interviewing a wife-beater who was trying to be released on parol.

I repeatedly hugged and kissed Sally, and said:

‘This is it. This is my dog!  I cannot WAITTTT to bring her home. 

My family and my other dogs are going to love her SOOOOO MUCH!!! 

I couldn’t stop hugging and kissing her. 

And I said: ‘Done. I'm taking her!!! Tell me, what do I need to do next?!...’

KIM: ‘You can’t take her until you bring in your family and your other dogs.’

Me: ‘ Of course, no problem. I can’t bring my son back today because he’s at school, but I’ll bring my dogs back here today to start the process.’

KIM: ‘I’d rather you not. It’s drizzling and Sally doesn’t like the rain.’

Me: ‘Umm…Ok... So then can I come back here tomorrow? My son doesn’t get out of school until 2:15. But I can be here tomorrow at 2:30 sharp with both him and my dogs!’

KIM: ‘Yeah I’d rather just not do it when it’s drizzling.'

Me: ‘Not a problem! Can I take her out for a walk now? ( it was drizzling then)

Her: ‘Yes’

(?)

I leave the room, and take Sally for a walk. 

Sally loved being outside, in spite of the drizzle, was happy, wagging her tail, and great on the leash.

I take her back and say AGAIN:

Me: ‘Done deal! I'm in LOVE with this dog. I feel like a little kid I'm so excited! Heehee. 

Ok WHAT do I do now?!…. Do I give you money to hold her….???’

KIM: (one word answers) Nope.

Me: ‘Soooo…How do I do this? Just come back here tomorrow with my kids and my dogs and we’ll see if they get along, and I pay you then???’

KIM: ‘Yep.’

Me: ‘Really??? I don’t need to make an appointment or something to secure time with the behavioral specialist or anything?’

KIM: 'Nope. Just bring your family and dogs in together at the same time, any time tomorrow’.

Me: ‘But…. what if someone takes her in that time, can you call me if someone is interested in her so I don’t lose her??’

Her: ‘You’re coming back tomorrow at 2. She’s been here for a week, No one’s going to take her by then.'

Me: ‘ I know….but I don’t want to lose this dog. What can I do to ensure that I won’t lose her?! You wouldn’t give her to someone else in that time, would you?…i mean... ”

Her: ‘I mean, theoretically she can be adopted...’ 

Me: ‘Wait, what do you mean?? How?? ‘I'm here, right now, telling you I DEFINITIVELY WANT this dog. There’s no way to secure that?  Is there a way I can put a hold on her?’

(...I specifically asked, quote, unquote: 

 ‘IS THERE A WAY I CAN PUT A HOLD ON SALLY?')

Her: Stammered a little in her response: 

‘(diverts her eye)..No, because you can’t put a hold on a dog until your family and other dogs come in. Plus you’re coming back tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about that. And it’s already the end of the day today. 

Just check online tmrw morning. If the picture is still up, she’s still here. But you’ll be back midday, and you already have an application in.’

(Remember, my application was from weeks earlier, with another dog's name on the application).

Me: ‘Really? Hmm. Sooo, ok….Well, Ummm, I just don’t want to lose this dog.'

KIM: *SILENCE

ME:  ‘Well As long as both of us are clear about that, about me wanting this dog.

Alright, I will be back here tomorrow, 2:30 SHARP with my family and dogs!!! 

I'M SO EXCITEDDD!!! I CAN”T WAIT!!! NOT SURE HOW I'M EVEN GOING TO SLEEP TONIGHT! 

I giggle, and say ‘Thank you SO MUCH, see you tomorrow at 2:30!!!’, say goodbye, and walk out.

I drive straight to Petco, picked up her name tag, with address and phone number on it, doggy bed, some bones, and a new collar.

Came home, told my family about Sally, and couldn’t wait for the next day to come. :)

Wednesday, September 20th, I anxiously await for 2:30.

2:00: I check online…Sally still there. Phew. (But of course she is, I think)…they know I'm coming back today, and I have an application filled out along with a verbal contract of returning with my whole entourage, and CLEARLY wanting the dog. 

(The whole time Im thinking, this is a terrible system. Why isn’t there a way to make sure you can hold the dog?!...After going through this whole physical and emotional process?)

2:15:
Got my dogs all saddled up in my car, grabbed my family members, and headed over to the Westport CT Humane Society, park my car out front, and at 2:30 ON THE DOT, I walk into the Humane Society with the biggest, stupidest smile on my face, beaming with happiness about picking up Sally and making her part of my family.

I walk inside, and right in the entrance were about 6 people milling about, filling in sign-in sheets and asking various questions to a few staff members. 

And there was KIM, looking into the kennel window, talking with a couple.

I excitedly walk up to her and frantically wave like a giddy school child who just found out they had a month long vacation.

I give her a big friendly ‘HIIII!!! I'm here with my family and all my dogs to meet Sally!!!’

KIM: (Lifelessly staring at me), Looks at me and says: 

 'Oh Sally was adopted today.’

(…...yep)

Me: ‘What? Wait. Say that again?!’ ( Completely thought I heard her incorrectly.)

Her: ‘ Yeah Sally was adopted today. Someone came in yesterday right after you left. And they came back this morning and put a hold on her. You never put a hold on her.

You never signed a ‘Hold Form’. 

Sorry.’

The 6 guests who were convened around where this was going on, all looked at me and said everything from: 

 ‘Wow…She can’t do that. That’s unbelievable!!!’

To: ‘That is NOT right!!! How dare she. How can she get away with that?!'

Another woman saw me starting to cry, and came over to me with her kids, and hugged me, and said ‘She should be fired. That is AWFUL what she did.'

Me to KIM: ‘I asked you over and over again what I needed to do to ensure the dog wouldn’t be taken from under me, and all you kept saying was to come back tomorrow!!!! I even asked if I could pay for her right then...or put money down to hold her…AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME THERE WAS A HOLD-FORM I NEEDED TO SIGN???’ AND I ASKED!

WORSE THAN THAT…I WAS THE FIRST APPLICANT, AND YOU DON'T, AT ANY POINT, AFTER ANOTHER PERSON COMES IN AND EXPRESSES INTEREST, CALL ME??…OR TELL THEM SOMEONE ELSE WAS ALREADY INTERESTED IN SALLY??? WHEN YOU HAVE MY PHONE NUMBER, AND ALL MY OTHER INFORMATION???? 
JUST FROM A MORAL PERSPECTIVE, YOU WOULDN’T CALL ME TO LET ME KNOW SOMEONE ELSE WAS INTERESTED IN HER, TO GIVE ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO COME BACK EARLIER??? AFTER YOU SAW HOW IN LOVE WITH THIS DOG I WAS???? YOU TAKE ALL MY  INFORMATION, BUT THEN NOT USE IT TO CONTACT ME AFTER I TOLD YOU I’D BE BACK HERE THE NEXT DAY AT 2:30??? WHEN I LIVE RIGHT HERE IN WESTPORT, AND COULD'VE BEEN BACK HERE IN 5 MINUTES?

AND YOU NEVER EVEN TELL THE PEOPLE WHO CAME IN AFTER ME, THAT SOMEONE ELSE HAD THE INTENTION OF COMING BACK THE NEXT DAY TO ADOPT HER???

KIM: ***silence

ME: ‘You’re just gonna stand there and lie, pretending I didn’t have a full blown, hour PLUS-long conversation with you yesterday about coming back to take this dog?!!!! Who is your manager?!! GET YOUR MANAGER!'

KIM: ‘ You never filled out a Hold Form, you can’t have the dog unless you fill out a hold form. The people that came in, filled out a Hold Form.'

Me: ‘YOU NEVER TOLD ME THERE WAS A HOLD FORM, I ASKED AND YOU SAID I COULDN'T HOLD THE DOG UNTIL I BROUGHT MY ANIMALS IN FIRST!!! AND I KEPT ASKING YOU WHAT TO DO TO ENSURE I WOULDN'T LOSE HER !!!'

KIM: *silence

——————————

…And it went on.

And on. 

And on.

She goes in the other room and talks to her manager, Bliss.

And although Bliss was clearly very patient, and kind, and attempted to get the full story from a crying, very upset, me, (and whom I know ultimately felt horribly for what this girl did to me)… in the end did nothing more than patiently listen to me cry and yell.

She also wouldn’t allow both me and Kim in the same room, to hash out the TRUE details together. Because if that were to occur, KIM would never be able to look me in the face and LIE to her boss, which I’m sure she was doing behind that closed door.

As much empathy as I felt Bliss had had, she still didn’t try once to go back and remedy the situation, and make it so my adoption of Sally would even happen. She simply just apologized, and apologized, saying she would personally help me find a dog I loved. 

That’s what I just did, Bliss. I found a dog I loved, and no one's doing one thing to ‘Help’.

So while the offer was probably well-intended, it wasn’t the solution I was looking for. Not even remotely. It wasn’t even on their radar to even try to get Sally back for me.

The Westport CT Humane Society should have righted their wrong, like decent people and places will always do. Especially places and organizations whose cultures and belief system is supposed to be entrenched in love and compassion, and whose business motto is all about finding selfless do-gooders, whose efforts to help others should supersede all other personal qualities. 

The animal rescue / dog adoption world is inherently a humanitarian field. 

No one’s going in there to buy a yacht.

(PS This whole time, Sally was STILL in the kennel while all of this was going on, ---and not paid for yet. It’s not like the dog was already taken away by the couple who came in after I did. So they still could have corrected this with a relatively painless phone call to the other people.)

Either Kim or Bliss SHOULD HAVE called the people who came in after me, and said, ‘I'm so very sorry, but there was apparently a terrible miscommunication at the front desk. Someone had come in for Sally before you, and had an appointment to meet with the animal behavioral specialist, and diligently did everything she was supposed to do to adopt Sally, so... she was first in line for Sally. 

If for some reason it doesn’t work out with her and her existing pets, we’ll be 100% sure to call you guys up seeing you were next in line to get her.'

THEY were the people Bliss or Kim should have said ‘But I’ll do whatever I can to help you find another dog’ to. 

Not me.

But they did nothing of the sort. Just kept saying I never filled out a Hold Form. Making this a clerical issue on MY end, vs. a deliberate attempt at sabotaging my adoption of Sally, on her end. 

It’s 100% the administrative person’s responsibility to be the one to provide the adopter with ALL THE NECESSARY DOCUMENTATION TO FACILITATE THE ADOPTION.

The onus of not signing a Hold Form should NOT have been thrust upon me. Even if it were, I asked for it and was told I couldn’t do that.

KIM LIED. Straight-up LIED.

And as far as I’m concerned, was malicious in her intentions.

From being in the back office with Bliss, and back out into the main public area, I started bawling my eyes out like a 2 year old, told Bliss I’d never come back there again, and that I have every intention of bringing to light the disgusting situation that ensued, and that I’d also be reporting them to the Better Business Bureau.

And that, I will be doing today as well.

Within 20 minutes of me leaving the building crying my eyes out, Bliss was nice enough to call me back, and attempted to try and make some type of resolve. 

Adopting a dog is a lengthy, emotional process that can take months to get right. If this were to happen with say, a piece of furniture you wanted to purchase, or some other inanimate object, this would be a relatively petty issue. Relatively. But regardless, the company or organization would still need to be held accountable for their fuckup. 

But to do this with something that’s living and breathing, with something you either feel a connection to, or not, is borderline evil and malicious 

...when I couldn’t have been any clearer about the strong connection I had felt towards Sally, and my unwavering commitment to see the adoption process through.

That girl Kim knew full-well she didn’t want me having Sally from the get-go. 

Not based on any facts. Not based on any bad referrals. Not based on anything that would jeopardize Sally’s well-being. 

Based on her warped, personal judgement of me. 
Her inaccurate surface bias.

Based on nothing more than being vindictive and controlling, uncommunicative and unaccommodating, cold and dismissive. 

She didn’t want me to have this dog. Plain and simple. Because she’s an unhappy, miserable person, she didn’t want it to be easy for me, the person she didn’t like, for no apparent reason, to have any joy either.

The night before, after I came home to tell my family that we were getting Sally the next day, I even mentioned that to my kids.... That I sensed KIM'S personal disapproval with me for a reason unbeknownst to myself.

I had said, ‘I don’t know why this girl doesn’t like me, but so help me I have a gut feeling that she’s just trying to make this not happen for me.’

My son asked why I felt that way. It was hard to put in words without sounding paranoid.

But as a woman, as a very intuitive woman, my instincts are razor sharp. 

And I promise... that’s what was going on here.

Whatever convoluted story she decided to generate about me as a person, she DECIDED to screw me. Anyone in her position with an ounce of heart, would have easily picked up the phone or dropped me an email to see if my interest in adopting Sally was still there…1 HOUR AFTER I WALKED OUT THEIR DOOR.

1 HOUR. That’s when she said the people who ultimately got Sally, came in. Not a week later. 1 hour.

And with that timeframe in mind, unless she has clinical brain damage, there’s absolutely NO WAY she would have forgotten about me or our conversation about adopting Sally.  

She did nothing to even reach out to me. After all the questions, all the paperwork, all the inquiries, all the info I provided her with, she disregarded it all, like I never, ever expressed any type of commitment in taking Sally home.

If the Westport Humane Society wants to attract an audience of loving, loyal, genuine, warm-hearted people who show commitment, loyalty and compassion with their animals in need, KIM needs to be fired. For she’s a horrible poster girl for an organization with altruistic roots.

I used to think of the Humane Society as a conscientious place steeped in compassion, caring, love and concern. And now those adjectives are disappointingly replaced with cattiness, coldness and callousness. And worse than anything else, a blatant disregard for the proper processes, the proper protocols, and deliberately withholding information that would enable my efforts and commitment in getting this dog adoption to be fully realized.

My experience today at The Westport CT. Humane Society, with KIM specifically, was anything but humane.

It was manipulative, unethical, immoral, malicious and downright cold and disgusting.

I will sadly now only see this organization as nothing more than a divisive, disorganized place that’s not necessarily looking out for the best interests of their dogs, and suiting them accordingly. They’re more focused on administrative details and looking good, than in doing what’s right.

As dramatic as this may sound to the average person, I was crying for the bulk of the day yesterday, and haven’t said much since talking on the phone with the manager Bliss yesterday.

 And while I accept her apologies and efforts to extend her sorrows in my situation, the proper action to get Sally back with me, was simply not even mildly entertained. 

All while this KIM character shockingly still has her job, employed in a place where the utmost requirement for it’s employees should first and foremost be, kindness, and to be of service...not treating warm, loving people willing to adopt from them, as if they are completely invisible and disposable.

While I am deeply saddened by the fact that Sally was wrongfully given to another family, I genuinely hope they love her to death, and Sally will live out her life incredibly happy and cared for with whomever the people are that now live with her.

That said, my feelings towards the The Westport CT Humane Society have been vastly altered. Although they may somewhat care about dogs and rabbits and cats, they obviously don’t really give a rat’s ass about people, their hearts, and upholding any sort of integrity.