I’m here to write about a dog I once, was eager to own.
I was 12 years old at that time and was really happy that I could adopt a dog from a shelter. On my first trip to the shelter, I rounded the place with my mum to pick out a dog and we found one that looked so amazing, as though a cross breed between a Collie and a Siberian Husky. It had long orange coat and ears like a fox.
After rounding, we decided to take home that dog however we had to wait for a month’s time for the shelter’s inspection and approval.
When the time came to collect the dog, I was disappointed because upon reaching the shelter, the people there told me that I could not have it and had to reselect another one. Their reason was that the dog is too fierce and cannot be tamed. I looked at the dog afar while bars were in between us. It seemed fine and I couldn’t understand. I was alone with my driver so I had no parental assistance. The people then showed me around and persuaded me that I could adopt another and immediately take it home.
So I walked around until a dog escaped from its cell and ran into me. Eventually, I chose this fella who then became Choco, my pet and aboveall, best friend.
Meeting people or anything is amazing. There is always something in a certain point of time that collides, creating memories and lessons for us all.
Meeting Choco by chance has a great story behind it. However I will not tell you this story yet.
Let’s go back to the ‘fox’ dog.
From time to time, I would reflect and pondered what if I had that dog instead of Choco, how different would things be? Of course after having Choco by my side, I had not desired to ever replace him as he was a great companion.
But recently, my perspective on this developed differently. I’m beginning to think that I share the same fate as the fox dog. In a sense that I will never be selected or taken by anyone because of the discouraging words by others. Just as the shelter people were discouraging me about adopting the dog because it was believed to be ‘wild’ and undomesticated, I sense that people must be believing and telling each other that I’m a difficult girl and to just stay away from me.
That struck out to me recently and it sank in my thoughts.
I now wonder how many people may have wanted to adopt that fox dog but was turned away by the shelter? Did the dog ever get adopted? Despite being discouraged, did someone finally stand up and say, “It’s allright, I still want that dog” and took it home.
Did it live its remaining life span in a shelter, waiting without knowing that it was denied because it was labelled as wild and not suitable as a pet?
… Am I sharing the same fate whereby I’m being denied a chance to be part of a relationship or circle?