This just came upon me. Out of nowhere I found myself writing.
Paradox?
And when evening meanders through the streets
And twilight deceives the glass shielded eye.
The era comes forward with imitation warmth
Speak to me of greens and reds and golds
All shades of winter’s colour
Tell me your truth where you meet the hard earth
And humble it in your presence.
Our synthetic lives bear no resemblance to the prophet
When did our clothes nurse us through the night?
When did our feet feel the cold and harsh dust?
Or the mire of yesterday’s burst?
That I was birthed in times of comfort
That I came forth knowing no poverty
That I sleep in deep covers
Praise be to the evolution we inspire
As evening meanders through the streets
And winters cold lulls nature to sleep
My lullaby remains in the modernity of England
And the knowing that many know a different winter
Tell me your truth where you meet the desert
Humble me in your poverty and need
Our era the same, the experience not.
Sunday, 13 November 2011
Friday, 11 November 2011
Woodland Walk
Once a week we take Harry the dog to the park for a woodland walk. Other walks consist of speed for exercise but the woodland walk is always my partner Pat and I strolling while Harry gets a good run around. As the year has progressed we’ve watched the walk change colour. As summer has turned to autumn the leaves have been falling. Gold and browns of different shades laying all around. That wonderful sound of crackling leaves under foot confirms that the seasons have turned and the year is growing old.
How many autumns have I experienced? Why was today so different?
As Harry jogged ahead, my eyes took in a new colour on the ground. Pat noticed it too and said “Sham, have you noticed? Look at the ground. Red leaves! Isn’t it beautiful?”
I verbally agreed in some kind of drab fashion but I was already absorbed in it. The path and surrounding area was so strikingly majestic and yet the feeling it imposed on me was not one of cold dignified alienation but one of such an embracing warmth that I won’t deny I considered scooping up an armful to take home.
Autumn can be such a heavy time when surrounded by the end of the annual glow of summer and trees become bare and enfolded in an invisible solitude. The dying of the beauty we adored in the warm hazy months of the mid-year can easily bring to the heart a desire to die with it, not in a physical sense but in the way we close ourselves in around the warmth of radiators and fires, making the outside world a mental wilderness during it’s time of re-energising.
Those red leaves connected to me. They told me of life. They reminded me that colour is superficial and unimportant and that autumn sings of a cycle. Nature is not dying, she is merely going to sleep, wrapping herself in her coat of brown and gold and red to recharge her batteries ready for the bursting forth of spring. The image is no different than one of me snuggling under the duvet to unwind, calming the events of the day and sleeping so that I’m ready for the day to come.
Although the ‘day’ of the year moves slower than my own cycle of re-energising, it is just as beautiful and peaceful and I viewed its peaceful enfolding today.
I can now look forward to the vigour of awakening on that woodland walk. The sudden burst of nature’s morning is only a sleep away.
What a wonderful world we live in, if only we paid more attention to the beauty in which we live.
My trust in the artistic stroke of the Divine Spirit is ever renewed.
Blessings
How many autumns have I experienced? Why was today so different?
As Harry jogged ahead, my eyes took in a new colour on the ground. Pat noticed it too and said “Sham, have you noticed? Look at the ground. Red leaves! Isn’t it beautiful?”
I verbally agreed in some kind of drab fashion but I was already absorbed in it. The path and surrounding area was so strikingly majestic and yet the feeling it imposed on me was not one of cold dignified alienation but one of such an embracing warmth that I won’t deny I considered scooping up an armful to take home.
Autumn can be such a heavy time when surrounded by the end of the annual glow of summer and trees become bare and enfolded in an invisible solitude. The dying of the beauty we adored in the warm hazy months of the mid-year can easily bring to the heart a desire to die with it, not in a physical sense but in the way we close ourselves in around the warmth of radiators and fires, making the outside world a mental wilderness during it’s time of re-energising.
Those red leaves connected to me. They told me of life. They reminded me that colour is superficial and unimportant and that autumn sings of a cycle. Nature is not dying, she is merely going to sleep, wrapping herself in her coat of brown and gold and red to recharge her batteries ready for the bursting forth of spring. The image is no different than one of me snuggling under the duvet to unwind, calming the events of the day and sleeping so that I’m ready for the day to come.
Although the ‘day’ of the year moves slower than my own cycle of re-energising, it is just as beautiful and peaceful and I viewed its peaceful enfolding today.
I can now look forward to the vigour of awakening on that woodland walk. The sudden burst of nature’s morning is only a sleep away.
What a wonderful world we live in, if only we paid more attention to the beauty in which we live.
My trust in the artistic stroke of the Divine Spirit is ever renewed.
Blessings
Friday, 28 October 2011
TRAINING FOR THE FUTURE
When I was interviewed for Ministry training I was told I would be a different person by the time they had finished with me. Gosh! It sounded a bit scary!
Here I am, half way through the first semester and, having been scared to death of being in a college environment and my own ability, I have found a world that oozes the very subject I have adored for more than a quarter of a century. Here I am, a person that is so opposite to the me of twenty five years ago. Here I am, absorbing every moment of college and home life and learning to read myself in a way that most people would find totally frightening. Here I am! If this is me now, I’m intrigued to know what the person they will change me into will be like.
I don’t walk this path alone. I’ve been issued with a mentor to take all my personal problems and concerns to and I’ve been blessed with being issued with someone who I know I can trust and is calm and gentle enough to get through to me with balanced conversation. I’ve started the course at the same time as someone I have known for some time and get on well with. The other student also helped to organise me in the first few weeks when I was over-whelmed with the amount of information I was snowed under with, we make a great supportive duo.
There are many others in the complex system that know more about the vocation I have chosen than I yet do. These people are there, in contact but waiting. Ministry is a lonely and stressful career choice and I am aware of the path that lies ahead even though I’m aware I’m not experienced enough to really know how much it will burden my soul in the years to come. Now, is when I am being taught to unburden. The price of sanity lies with being able to turn to others and that’s something I’ve never been good at in the past, much to my cost.
Here I am, at the beginning of a new chapter in my life and so full that I wish I could scoop up everyone and everything I love into my arms and hold it tight. I feel like I’m finally doing something I love and learning to do something so very special .............. giving something back, helping, loving, supporting and dedicating myself to others. Even though I know I’ve failed so dreadfully at this in the past (although there have been wonderful times too). All my past hurts and failings have helped me learn how NOT to do things and now I’m learning how to do things well.
The wonders of life, of living, of being in a world where just making a miniscule difference seems worth it. Bring it on!!!
Here I am, half way through the first semester and, having been scared to death of being in a college environment and my own ability, I have found a world that oozes the very subject I have adored for more than a quarter of a century. Here I am, a person that is so opposite to the me of twenty five years ago. Here I am, absorbing every moment of college and home life and learning to read myself in a way that most people would find totally frightening. Here I am! If this is me now, I’m intrigued to know what the person they will change me into will be like.
I don’t walk this path alone. I’ve been issued with a mentor to take all my personal problems and concerns to and I’ve been blessed with being issued with someone who I know I can trust and is calm and gentle enough to get through to me with balanced conversation. I’ve started the course at the same time as someone I have known for some time and get on well with. The other student also helped to organise me in the first few weeks when I was over-whelmed with the amount of information I was snowed under with, we make a great supportive duo.
There are many others in the complex system that know more about the vocation I have chosen than I yet do. These people are there, in contact but waiting. Ministry is a lonely and stressful career choice and I am aware of the path that lies ahead even though I’m aware I’m not experienced enough to really know how much it will burden my soul in the years to come. Now, is when I am being taught to unburden. The price of sanity lies with being able to turn to others and that’s something I’ve never been good at in the past, much to my cost.
Here I am, at the beginning of a new chapter in my life and so full that I wish I could scoop up everyone and everything I love into my arms and hold it tight. I feel like I’m finally doing something I love and learning to do something so very special .............. giving something back, helping, loving, supporting and dedicating myself to others. Even though I know I’ve failed so dreadfully at this in the past (although there have been wonderful times too). All my past hurts and failings have helped me learn how NOT to do things and now I’m learning how to do things well.
The wonders of life, of living, of being in a world where just making a miniscule difference seems worth it. Bring it on!!!
Sunday, 25 September 2011
A New Path
A dream opened my heart and bared my soul naked
The path commenced at my feet and disappeared to a far-off hill
My going forward suddenly blocked
He stood miles high, a face beyond view
I knew this stranger
“Why do you fear?” The voice deep and dominating
Conscious of the weight I felt within “I am so small”.
The voice was silent but my heart heard
“Is the seed less important than the flower?
Does the field mouse bow to the elephant?”
Birds flew from the depths of my being
My weight carried in their flight of freedom
My path cleared
With deep breath I placed a foot in front
Joy!
The smell of sweet grass in my nostrils
The path welcoming
I set my glance towards the hill
I will meet him again, but not this day.
The path commenced at my feet and disappeared to a far-off hill
My going forward suddenly blocked
He stood miles high, a face beyond view
I knew this stranger
“Why do you fear?” The voice deep and dominating
Conscious of the weight I felt within “I am so small”.
The voice was silent but my heart heard
“Is the seed less important than the flower?
Does the field mouse bow to the elephant?”
Birds flew from the depths of my being
My weight carried in their flight of freedom
My path cleared
With deep breath I placed a foot in front
Joy!
The smell of sweet grass in my nostrils
The path welcoming
I set my glance towards the hill
I will meet him again, but not this day.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Angels - the art of extinguishing demons
How can anyone consider a rapist or murderer as an angel?
Surely, we are all moved to consider angels to be those who guide us through the bad things in life. Angels are supposed to be our saviours in time of need. Angels are told in stories to be messengers of God bringing news and tidings that will give us hope for the future. Angels are goodies ......... aren’t they?
If the suggestion of those we refer to as evil being angels makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, perhaps you should read Appreciating Angels: Sarah’s Story by Sally Asling. It was a book that has certainly changed my opinion regarding my own past and many, who have had difficult lives, may find it quite medicinal to read.
It’s a very bitter pill to swallow when there is a very ‘close to home’ feel to the situations portrayed in the book and the possibility that our own ghosts and those that cause us hurt, pain and suffering are handed a title that we hold in such high esteem. Even when the heart pulls us towards forgiveness for the sake of our own beliefs, some things can be too painful to release from the grasp of anger.
I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason. This book has provided me with the understanding I was missing to unlock the chains of yesterday. I only bought it because it was cheap on Kindle and yet it has changed my life. I know I’m sounding a bit over the top but it really did make me consider my past differently, especially as I have only very recently pulled myself out of a sticky and painful time. I have come to terms with, not just recent problems but, more importantly, past ghosts that have overshadowed my life.
Over the last four of five months I’ve been clearing out emotional debris. We all have times when our personal circumstances seem to gather a lot of burdens that are hard to shed and before we managed to tackle the first one another has appeared. My most recent experience had been a constant build up over several years. With the burdens now lifted or at least become easier to accept, putting the pieces of life back into their rightful places takes a little time. While we go through the black parts of life we rarely appreciate what we’re gaining. Here, at the other end of the tunnel, I look back and see how the pieces of the puzzle all fitted together and recognise the importance of people who hurt me as part of the path that would lead me back into the sunshine.
I’m soon to begin intense training towards Ministry. I promise, there is no halo over my head, and I can assure there never will be. I would love to become the perfect Minister, level headed, full of wisdom and spiritual calm and nothing but love for all my fellow human beings no matter who or what they are, but it ain’t gonna happen. I can only hope to keep working at being that perfect Minister in the hope that I will get as close to perfection as humanly possible.
It’s always been so easy for me to talk to others, in a pastoral situation, with calm and understanding and be able to guide them towards other perspectives, but I have to admit that I have never been able to commit the same wisdom to my own problems. Being a very feeling person, I seem to absorb a lot and not know how to respond even when innocence is the conclusion. My past has led me to accept whatever accusation is thrown and lay silent hoping that life itself will be my proof, but has seldom been my retribution. Some choose to carry burdens of guilt and misery for their pain. Some choose to point fingers of anger or even hatred towards those involved with their hurt. Some choose to point the finger of blame and ignore their own importance in situations. Some do all of these and more. I have, innocently believed that, things will work themselves out for the better. I used to believe that patience was all that was required and often, painfully, waited for animosity to extinguish itself and peace reign supreme. I was waiting for the ‘goodie’ Angel to appear and make things right. How innocent am I?
It’s quite normal for us to want our lives to be full of sunshine and joy. Hurt, pain, heartache, grief and sadness are all the bits we’d rather avoid. Few of us are expert at handling the negative things that happen and even fewer are talented enough to recognise the need and reason for their occurrence. We can only ever reach for the stars, our feet will always remain on terra firma.
Socrates used to tell his students that he knew nothing and in knowing that was itself wisdom. In such a complicated world I can see the wisdom of his words.
Trying to understand how a loving God would send such heartache and pain in order for us to become the person we need to be is quite a big step. This is definitely a time to review what we expect, from The Divine, that we were never promised. This is time for us to work out what is reality and what are our own expectations blown into something called normality.
Life is a very painful path but pain is, very definitely, close to pleasure. As we walk along the paths of our lives we would be naive to really expect endless sunshine. The patterns of nature and the weather she subjects the land to, should be our lesson as to how our lives should be.
So as for the Angels in our lives. It’s not easy to accept but I have to agree that I would not be the person I am had it not been for the dreadful things that have happened in my life. Those I have long felt unable to come to terms with are, amazingly, the very people that pushed me towards being the person I am today. The process doesn’t end, every hurt has it’s reason and directs us towards a place where our experience is needed.
So I guess I have to accept that those who are called evil are the angels that are sent to mould us into the people we need to be in order to follow the road that awaits us. We may not like the analogy but something has to ensure that we are in the right place at the right time to be the people we need to be. Sometimes, we have to be in a dark place in order for us to be the salvation of another further down the path.
Divine Spirit,
Bless all those who mould our lives and our thinking.
Bless the gentle and the aggressive
Bless the lost and the found
Bless those who offend and those who are offended
Bring all your mystery and wonder to the table and let us feel life in total and not just in the ways of hope and imagination.
Amen.
Surely, we are all moved to consider angels to be those who guide us through the bad things in life. Angels are supposed to be our saviours in time of need. Angels are told in stories to be messengers of God bringing news and tidings that will give us hope for the future. Angels are goodies ......... aren’t they?
If the suggestion of those we refer to as evil being angels makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, perhaps you should read Appreciating Angels: Sarah’s Story by Sally Asling. It was a book that has certainly changed my opinion regarding my own past and many, who have had difficult lives, may find it quite medicinal to read.
It’s a very bitter pill to swallow when there is a very ‘close to home’ feel to the situations portrayed in the book and the possibility that our own ghosts and those that cause us hurt, pain and suffering are handed a title that we hold in such high esteem. Even when the heart pulls us towards forgiveness for the sake of our own beliefs, some things can be too painful to release from the grasp of anger.
I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason. This book has provided me with the understanding I was missing to unlock the chains of yesterday. I only bought it because it was cheap on Kindle and yet it has changed my life. I know I’m sounding a bit over the top but it really did make me consider my past differently, especially as I have only very recently pulled myself out of a sticky and painful time. I have come to terms with, not just recent problems but, more importantly, past ghosts that have overshadowed my life.
Over the last four of five months I’ve been clearing out emotional debris. We all have times when our personal circumstances seem to gather a lot of burdens that are hard to shed and before we managed to tackle the first one another has appeared. My most recent experience had been a constant build up over several years. With the burdens now lifted or at least become easier to accept, putting the pieces of life back into their rightful places takes a little time. While we go through the black parts of life we rarely appreciate what we’re gaining. Here, at the other end of the tunnel, I look back and see how the pieces of the puzzle all fitted together and recognise the importance of people who hurt me as part of the path that would lead me back into the sunshine.
I’m soon to begin intense training towards Ministry. I promise, there is no halo over my head, and I can assure there never will be. I would love to become the perfect Minister, level headed, full of wisdom and spiritual calm and nothing but love for all my fellow human beings no matter who or what they are, but it ain’t gonna happen. I can only hope to keep working at being that perfect Minister in the hope that I will get as close to perfection as humanly possible.
It’s always been so easy for me to talk to others, in a pastoral situation, with calm and understanding and be able to guide them towards other perspectives, but I have to admit that I have never been able to commit the same wisdom to my own problems. Being a very feeling person, I seem to absorb a lot and not know how to respond even when innocence is the conclusion. My past has led me to accept whatever accusation is thrown and lay silent hoping that life itself will be my proof, but has seldom been my retribution. Some choose to carry burdens of guilt and misery for their pain. Some choose to point fingers of anger or even hatred towards those involved with their hurt. Some choose to point the finger of blame and ignore their own importance in situations. Some do all of these and more. I have, innocently believed that, things will work themselves out for the better. I used to believe that patience was all that was required and often, painfully, waited for animosity to extinguish itself and peace reign supreme. I was waiting for the ‘goodie’ Angel to appear and make things right. How innocent am I?
It’s quite normal for us to want our lives to be full of sunshine and joy. Hurt, pain, heartache, grief and sadness are all the bits we’d rather avoid. Few of us are expert at handling the negative things that happen and even fewer are talented enough to recognise the need and reason for their occurrence. We can only ever reach for the stars, our feet will always remain on terra firma.
Socrates used to tell his students that he knew nothing and in knowing that was itself wisdom. In such a complicated world I can see the wisdom of his words.
Trying to understand how a loving God would send such heartache and pain in order for us to become the person we need to be is quite a big step. This is definitely a time to review what we expect, from The Divine, that we were never promised. This is time for us to work out what is reality and what are our own expectations blown into something called normality.
Life is a very painful path but pain is, very definitely, close to pleasure. As we walk along the paths of our lives we would be naive to really expect endless sunshine. The patterns of nature and the weather she subjects the land to, should be our lesson as to how our lives should be.
So as for the Angels in our lives. It’s not easy to accept but I have to agree that I would not be the person I am had it not been for the dreadful things that have happened in my life. Those I have long felt unable to come to terms with are, amazingly, the very people that pushed me towards being the person I am today. The process doesn’t end, every hurt has it’s reason and directs us towards a place where our experience is needed.
So I guess I have to accept that those who are called evil are the angels that are sent to mould us into the people we need to be in order to follow the road that awaits us. We may not like the analogy but something has to ensure that we are in the right place at the right time to be the people we need to be. Sometimes, we have to be in a dark place in order for us to be the salvation of another further down the path.
Divine Spirit,
Bless all those who mould our lives and our thinking.
Bless the gentle and the aggressive
Bless the lost and the found
Bless those who offend and those who are offended
Bring all your mystery and wonder to the table and let us feel life in total and not just in the ways of hope and imagination.
Amen.
Friday, 8 July 2011
Precious is the pain of the heart
One of my favourite spiritual writers has to be Khalil Gibran. I have quite a selection of his works, some of which are so deep and intricate that I don’t understand the point he’s making but the vast majority truly speak to my spirituality. His most popular work, The Prophet, is, to me, a true manual of life. Anyone who hasn’t read his work, I would urge you to fill this gap in your being.
My own place of worship, New Chapel, Denton, has a bimonthly newsletter which is carefully and lovingly put together by one of the Chapel members. There is, more often than not, a selection of poetry in each issue and the latest edition has an entire centre piece dedicated to some wonderful works. Amongst the selection in the latest issue there is a piece by Khalil Gibran that I have not come across before. On reading it, yet again, as usually happens with his work, my spirit danced in agreement of his words. It is such a beautiful piece that I would like to share it with you.
A Tear and A Smile
I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart for the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes to flow from my every part turn into laughter.
I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.
A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding of life’s secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and to be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.
A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.
I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live weary and despairing.
I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the depths of my spirit, for I have seen those who are satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.
With evening’s coming the flower folds her petals and sleeps, embracing her longing.
At morning’s approach she opens her lips to meet the sun’s kisses.
The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.
The waters of the sea become vapour and rise and come together and are cloud.
And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping to the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to return to the sea, its home.
The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.
And so does the spirit become separated from the greater spirit to move in the world of matter and pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow and the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death and return whence it came.
To the ocean of love and beauty – to God.
These are certainly words for the heart to hold in consideration when life deals its ration of pain and despondency, they are also words to hold close when our path is filled with joy, so that we remember how precious all the moments of our lives truly are.
Thank you to Keith Hinds for putting these words into print for me to read and absorb.
May the Divine unfold in our lives in all its forms and colours and may we learn to see our own moulding in every manifestation of life.
My own place of worship, New Chapel, Denton, has a bimonthly newsletter which is carefully and lovingly put together by one of the Chapel members. There is, more often than not, a selection of poetry in each issue and the latest edition has an entire centre piece dedicated to some wonderful works. Amongst the selection in the latest issue there is a piece by Khalil Gibran that I have not come across before. On reading it, yet again, as usually happens with his work, my spirit danced in agreement of his words. It is such a beautiful piece that I would like to share it with you.
A Tear and A Smile
I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart for the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes to flow from my every part turn into laughter.
I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.
A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding of life’s secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and to be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.
A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.
I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live weary and despairing.
I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the depths of my spirit, for I have seen those who are satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.
With evening’s coming the flower folds her petals and sleeps, embracing her longing.
At morning’s approach she opens her lips to meet the sun’s kisses.
The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.
The waters of the sea become vapour and rise and come together and are cloud.
And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping to the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to return to the sea, its home.
The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.
And so does the spirit become separated from the greater spirit to move in the world of matter and pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow and the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death and return whence it came.
To the ocean of love and beauty – to God.
These are certainly words for the heart to hold in consideration when life deals its ration of pain and despondency, they are also words to hold close when our path is filled with joy, so that we remember how precious all the moments of our lives truly are.
Thank you to Keith Hinds for putting these words into print for me to read and absorb.
May the Divine unfold in our lives in all its forms and colours and may we learn to see our own moulding in every manifestation of life.
Friday, 27 May 2011
Broken and Grown
Last night I felt like a broken woman but from the experience I’ve learnt a lot.
When we got our dog Harry, I was aware that we had taken on a lot of hard work. He had been mistreated and was bound to have been affected by his past experiences. We took on the responsibility knowing that there was no history or information on his life to use as a guide and that it was extremely important that we didn’t give up as we would then add to his problems. With all the good intentions in the world and a full love of animals we brought him home.
His first week with us was not the way we’d planned. Within 48 hours we had found out that his neutering was infected and that he should never have been released to us. We willingly paid for his treatment to correct the problem but was told that until his infection had been identified we should not introduce him to the cats. We knew the longer we went without them meeting the harder it would be but we wanted to protect all our animals and so we adhered.
Poor Harry spent the first 10 days with a bucket collar on. Not good for his street-cred LOL.
During those first 10 days, Harry began to show his personality. He had obviously not had any discipline or training and so behaved like an excited puppy even down to biting (not viciously) and bouncing over us and the furniture, and chewing everything in sight. He’s a powerful dog with his staffy make-up and with Pat’s disability, I have had to do most of the tugging and absorb most of the biting to try and bring him into line.
Once the bucket collar came off, I thought walks would tire him out so I started a regime of 4 walks a day of no less than 30 minutes. It didn’t help. I believed that God had sent him to us, not just to help him as the infection would have killed him but for him to teach me patience.
The best investment we made was paying for a dog trainer to come and meet Harry and help us to try and get some respect into him.
We’ve had him with us for nearly three weeks now but last night, I was tired, I was behind with writing my service for Sunday and I felt guilty that my lovely cats hadn’t been allowed to roam their own home as if they had done something wrong. I had spent the last 2.5 weeks looking on the bright side and that we would get there in the end but last night, I felt my will break. I felt I couldn’t handle any more and that I would have to break my own rules, do the very thing that I find disgusting in others and take him back. I couldn’t sleep for fear and worry of what he was doing or destroying. I couldn’t get on with anything in the house because he was so unruly. I had hit the bottom.
I got up this morning feeling dreadful, tearful and beaten. When Pat got up I told her I couldn’t take anymore and that I would be returning him back to Cheshire dogs home this afternoon. Problem was that I love him. The idea of letting go of him hurt as much as what we’d been going through and the idea that I’d be doing him damage by taking him back was like a knife.
Thank God we had invested in a dog trainer. A 30 minute phone-call with him early this afternoon laid all our problems to rest. I’m not saying that Harry is any better behaved now than he was this morning but the trainer put some more rules down and even suggested a crate to put him in as a doggie den to give us a rest.
I’ve put the new rules into effect and there is already a marked difference, however, much as I had always thought it cruel to put a dog in a crate, I have to say, not only has it given us time to breathe and let the cats back in the living room to socialise with us, but Harry actually seems to like the crate. The dog trainer did tell us this might be the case as dogs like somewhere they can think of as their own den.
There is no way I intend on sending him back now and both Pat and I are extremely grateful to our fantastic trainer for his support.
I have to say I have learnt so much from the experience of having Harry that I can now see how it’s possible to love someone or something so much but still feel that it would be better to part, and how much the idea of splitting up must hurt. I’m not presuming for a moment that I could ever know what divorce feels like or handing a child over to social services. I’m aware we’re talking about my relationship with a dog, but some experiences are sent in different clothing in order for understanding to be real towards the feelings of others.
I guess God really has sent Harry to us to work on us as much as we have to work on him. Who says things don’t happen for a reason. These lessons could never be learnt in a college.
Harry Tobias, we’ll get there boy
When we got our dog Harry, I was aware that we had taken on a lot of hard work. He had been mistreated and was bound to have been affected by his past experiences. We took on the responsibility knowing that there was no history or information on his life to use as a guide and that it was extremely important that we didn’t give up as we would then add to his problems. With all the good intentions in the world and a full love of animals we brought him home.
His first week with us was not the way we’d planned. Within 48 hours we had found out that his neutering was infected and that he should never have been released to us. We willingly paid for his treatment to correct the problem but was told that until his infection had been identified we should not introduce him to the cats. We knew the longer we went without them meeting the harder it would be but we wanted to protect all our animals and so we adhered.
Poor Harry spent the first 10 days with a bucket collar on. Not good for his street-cred LOL.
During those first 10 days, Harry began to show his personality. He had obviously not had any discipline or training and so behaved like an excited puppy even down to biting (not viciously) and bouncing over us and the furniture, and chewing everything in sight. He’s a powerful dog with his staffy make-up and with Pat’s disability, I have had to do most of the tugging and absorb most of the biting to try and bring him into line.
Once the bucket collar came off, I thought walks would tire him out so I started a regime of 4 walks a day of no less than 30 minutes. It didn’t help. I believed that God had sent him to us, not just to help him as the infection would have killed him but for him to teach me patience.
The best investment we made was paying for a dog trainer to come and meet Harry and help us to try and get some respect into him.
We’ve had him with us for nearly three weeks now but last night, I was tired, I was behind with writing my service for Sunday and I felt guilty that my lovely cats hadn’t been allowed to roam their own home as if they had done something wrong. I had spent the last 2.5 weeks looking on the bright side and that we would get there in the end but last night, I felt my will break. I felt I couldn’t handle any more and that I would have to break my own rules, do the very thing that I find disgusting in others and take him back. I couldn’t sleep for fear and worry of what he was doing or destroying. I couldn’t get on with anything in the house because he was so unruly. I had hit the bottom.
I got up this morning feeling dreadful, tearful and beaten. When Pat got up I told her I couldn’t take anymore and that I would be returning him back to Cheshire dogs home this afternoon. Problem was that I love him. The idea of letting go of him hurt as much as what we’d been going through and the idea that I’d be doing him damage by taking him back was like a knife.
Thank God we had invested in a dog trainer. A 30 minute phone-call with him early this afternoon laid all our problems to rest. I’m not saying that Harry is any better behaved now than he was this morning but the trainer put some more rules down and even suggested a crate to put him in as a doggie den to give us a rest.
I’ve put the new rules into effect and there is already a marked difference, however, much as I had always thought it cruel to put a dog in a crate, I have to say, not only has it given us time to breathe and let the cats back in the living room to socialise with us, but Harry actually seems to like the crate. The dog trainer did tell us this might be the case as dogs like somewhere they can think of as their own den.
There is no way I intend on sending him back now and both Pat and I are extremely grateful to our fantastic trainer for his support.
I have to say I have learnt so much from the experience of having Harry that I can now see how it’s possible to love someone or something so much but still feel that it would be better to part, and how much the idea of splitting up must hurt. I’m not presuming for a moment that I could ever know what divorce feels like or handing a child over to social services. I’m aware we’re talking about my relationship with a dog, but some experiences are sent in different clothing in order for understanding to be real towards the feelings of others.
I guess God really has sent Harry to us to work on us as much as we have to work on him. Who says things don’t happen for a reason. These lessons could never be learnt in a college.
Harry Tobias, we’ll get there boy
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