It's always a joy to find another thing to love about living here. We're still "newbies" in my book, having lived here just under three years. Making discoveries still happens fairly regularly, and I welcome them.
Thing 32 that I love about living here is that the Seeing Eye is only a stone's throw from us. It's a nationally known organization that exists to bring dignity and independence to the blind through the assignment of a Seeing Eye dog.
Yesterday, I began my stint as a volunteer at their headquarters. Once we let Ester go, the puppy fix was needed. By volunteering I could still be around pups and also learn a bit more about the running of the organization. My "job" is far from glamourous, but it does allow me to be in the kennels. Secretly I'm hoping to see our girl while she's there, but I think it might do me in, to be honest.
While waiting in the reception area yesterday I was able to chat with the receptionist, (who happens to be blind) about all things Seeing Eye. She was kind enough to let me pet her black lab "O'Hara" which was a special treat, trust me. This particular Monday happened to be the beginning of the new session, so students were checking in for their month long training.
When the first student came in with his wife, several of the instructors came to greet him, along with the head of the Seeing Eye with his dog "Vegas" in harness. For a few moments I was the fly on the wall, overhearing the conversation. The gentleman was coming in for his first dog. Between hearing that and watching Vegas in action, I was brought to tears. What a privilege to finally see it all in action, lived out right in front of me.
As a puppy raiser, there's a tendency to have tunnel vision and only focus on the training of the dog. Once they leave us, we're onto the next puppy or attempting to get back to normal. We're not privy to the ENTIRE process of getting that puppy into the hands of the blind person. All this time, talking and thinking about Ester becoming a Seeing Eye, it's been difficult to visualize the end product, not having seen it.
Sitting in that chair changed all that. Everything came together for me. These dogs change lives. How totally selfish I've been in wanting her to come back to us, when she can go out and conquer the world for someone. THAT'S what I want. We don't need her, but they do.
We're blessed to be involved with such an amazing organization. Thing 32, you might just be my favorite reason for moving here.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Time passes
We're about six weeks into the absence of Ester.
I'd like to say we're used to it, and in a small way we are, but truthfully, we miss her.
We miss her dearly.
On these long cold nights with a fire going and us hanging out on the couch, there's no Ester to snuggle.
When the fire is raging and warming up the room, there's no Ester to rest in front of it and soak up it's heat.
When the cats are lounging around like they own the place (and they do), there's no Ester to torture them and take them down a notch.
When the snow just wouldn't stop coming, and coming, and coming- there was no bouncy, happy Ester to jump right into it with the kids.
When this mom, who spends the majority of her days alone talking to herself, there's no Ester to listen or offer up love.
How does one adjust to this missing piece? Is it possible we will never adjust completely? Part of me believes we won't ever be able to say we've recovered from her absence, and that's okay. I want to be affected in such a way that our response is to do it again, and again and again. Fostering a puppy for this cause has impacted me, and our family greatly.
Two letters have come in the mail from Ester, with the latest one giving us the details on who is training her, as well as preparing us for her future "town walk" where we will get to see her in harness. Can I be honest? The thought of her in harness makes my heart swell with such pride. But pride is the last thing I want to feel, instead I'm aiming to feel nothing but gratitude. Not just for the chance to love her and know her, but for the opportunity to affect a life in a way that is uncommon and unmeasurable. In a small way we are acting as ambassadors of Christ, in sacrificing our time, energy and hearts to love on a person we don't even know. What a mystery of love to do something so difficult, and yet desire to do it again and again. The capacity for love that Christ has given us is propelling us forward.
While we wait to hear how she does in her training, we have moved forward in our quest to have our own puppy to keep. When we began the entire process of fostering, we (actually only one of us) weren't sure a dog would be the right fit for us. Ester went and sold us.
In the meantime, we're teaching the cats to play fetch and walking them around the block. It's been an epic fail. You can't teach on old cat new tricks.
I'd like to say we're used to it, and in a small way we are, but truthfully, we miss her.
We miss her dearly.
On these long cold nights with a fire going and us hanging out on the couch, there's no Ester to snuggle.
When the fire is raging and warming up the room, there's no Ester to rest in front of it and soak up it's heat.
When the cats are lounging around like they own the place (and they do), there's no Ester to torture them and take them down a notch.
When the snow just wouldn't stop coming, and coming, and coming- there was no bouncy, happy Ester to jump right into it with the kids.
When this mom, who spends the majority of her days alone talking to herself, there's no Ester to listen or offer up love.
How does one adjust to this missing piece? Is it possible we will never adjust completely? Part of me believes we won't ever be able to say we've recovered from her absence, and that's okay. I want to be affected in such a way that our response is to do it again, and again and again. Fostering a puppy for this cause has impacted me, and our family greatly.
Two letters have come in the mail from Ester, with the latest one giving us the details on who is training her, as well as preparing us for her future "town walk" where we will get to see her in harness. Can I be honest? The thought of her in harness makes my heart swell with such pride. But pride is the last thing I want to feel, instead I'm aiming to feel nothing but gratitude. Not just for the chance to love her and know her, but for the opportunity to affect a life in a way that is uncommon and unmeasurable. In a small way we are acting as ambassadors of Christ, in sacrificing our time, energy and hearts to love on a person we don't even know. What a mystery of love to do something so difficult, and yet desire to do it again and again. The capacity for love that Christ has given us is propelling us forward.
While we wait to hear how she does in her training, we have moved forward in our quest to have our own puppy to keep. When we began the entire process of fostering, we (actually only one of us) weren't sure a dog would be the right fit for us. Ester went and sold us.
In the meantime, we're teaching the cats to play fetch and walking them around the block. It's been an epic fail. You can't teach on old cat new tricks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)