I’m leaving the grocery store, walking towards my car with my cart. I hear a little doggy barking by the entrance. It looks like he or maybe she (it’s was dark so I’ll call it Sparky) has a tag but maybe not. Now I’m putting my groceries in my trunk, Sparky is barking at everyone leaving the store. This is a tiny little dog, idk maybe some kind of chihuahua mix, not something that could cause serious harm to humans. To me it looks like Sparky is just scared and looking for help. I pray his humans are also at the store and will return to Sparky soon. I finish packing my groceries in the trunk and start heading back to cart return. I see Sparky about to cross a busy street. I stop, God please don’t let Sparky get run over. Sparky makes it across to the other side, looks back and keeps barking. I resume taking my cart back, I see a little boy who was just as fixated on Sparky’s crossing as I was. He gets it, right? Nope jk, now he’s shouting at Sparky to shut up. I feel like I have to do something. I pick up that little shit and yeet him across the street for Sparky to feast on. No, I didn’t do that, but his mom did tell him to chill.
As I returned to my car, I could see Sparky, just across the street, still barking. This is what I needed to do though I didn’t understand why at the time. Instead of going straight home I parked in the opposite parking lot and got out. Sparky ran away. I followed Sparky down the alley towards the next block but every time I got within 50 feet or so Sparky ran further away. I realized I couldn’t catch Sparky, but I had chased Sparky out of an empty alley towards a bar and food truck, so hopefully someone could do better and get Sparky home. I went back to my car and drove home.
As I did, a thought occurred, why did this all bother me like this and hours later still does? Surely, I’ve seen a stray dog running around before and not even cared if it had a tag. Sparky belonged somewhere, right? No doubt someone out in this world was trying their hardest to get Sparky back. That’s when I realized. Maybe Sparky didn’t belong anywhere. Or maybe, where Sparky thought it belonged, no one actually wanted Sparky there. I’m probably projecting on a chihuahua mix a little here but that’s when it made sense to me. Sparky is either lost or unwanted. And I’ve felt like both for so long.
God bless Sparky.
Not to detract from your introspection during this moment with Sparky, but reading this made me think of my time in Romania and what my father told me about the packs of wild dogs that roam the city streets. He called them the peoples dogs, and very often instead of it being viewed as a need to rescue situation, people just leave food out for them and let them roam freely. They’re smart too, they cross at the crosswalks and have their own little dog communities. People who see this from the outside don’t always understand.
I saw a video of some American transplants in Romania, who appalled at the sight of all these wild dogs they considered abandoned they set up their own shelter and would go collect the dogs they found daily. I understand the aspect of caring and wanting to see animals properly cared for, but also having these cultural differences shared with me I wonder if a dog that lives it’s life freely understand the help that they’re trying to provide when they put it in a kennel.
I wish someone would see that I. Me. I too have the feeling like no one would really be looking for me. His will to live is stronger than mine. I woke up today and just started crying at the notion that no one in this world is happy that I woke up today. No one is happy I’m alive today not even me