... I do despise the fact that you're never truly healed. And that your mind chooses the strangest of times to remind you of your past.
In other words ... it's time to re-tell the story of the stray.
I was doing yardwork, because I'm old and that's what old people do on the weekend, working on the outside of the fence, cleaning up the overgrowth that had all but taken over the sidewalk, when a collarless dog went trotting past, right in the middle of the four lanes of traffic that go by ye *new* olde homestead here in Florida. The dog kept on going, so I noted it as unusual, and continued with my chores.
However, it wasn't long before the stray returned, hanging out in the spot where I had just been working, nosing the fence to befriend one of the two dogs who RUN ye *new* olde homestead. Seeing that as a sign that I was to intervene, I went around with a bowl of water (it's HOT here in Florida) to gain his trust, and returned almost immediately with a peanut butter bone treat, which the stray smelled, liked and followed me (and it) around to the gated back yard.
A few hours passed (I didn't have access to a car until early evening for the next phase of the plan ... to get to a vet to see if the boy was chipped), and my new friend got sweeter as the day went on, following me around as I did other outside chores, and curling up underneath the bench where I passed time reading in the afternoon. (The two dogs who live here already were kept inside, because one was being very vocal about not wanting to mingle, and because there were just too many unknown variables to mix the other with a stray.)
Ultimately, the trip to the vet *did* happen and the stray *was* chipped (and was named Achilles) and his original family was notified. However, that family took its time to come claim him, despite being just two blocks away.
It was during that time frame, while I was waiting, that the past came crashing down around me. You see, I was once a stray, and dependent on the kindness of others to determine my fate. The fact that it was more than twenty years ago ... not a factor as I looked into Achilles' eyes and started projecting all of my long buried feelings on to him. He may not have understood all the details as to why my mood had changed, but he did what all dogs universally do in that type of situation ... he looked back at me and jumped up to put his front paws in my lap and nudged me to let me know that I needn't be sad in his presence.
Except my spiral worsened. Because, with *his* reaction, my memories continued to flood back, and soon I was recalling how I had tried to escape my home situation more than once before I succeeded. Each time, I had made it off the premises of the house from which I was running away, and each time I was returned as the circumstances hadn't quite lined up just right for me to completely escape.
What if Achilles hadn't accidentally gotten out and that he was trying for a new and better life? What if my actions, while "right" on the surface, were actually returning him to a place where he didn't want to be? What if the little guy was actually taking his first steps of freedom as an escape and I was about to be an accomplice ... in sending him right back to where he didn't want to be?
Achilles' owners took two and half hours from the time of notification to come and pick him up (ostensibly, although they had "spent the day" searching for him, they had gone over to the next county to visit family in the evening, and needed at least an hour to get back home). As you can imagine, that only served to feed my psychosis, and made me fearful of the reunion I had coordinated.
Eventually, that reunion happened ... and luckily for all parties involved, Achilles ran to the family that climbed out of the SUV (a mother, father and at least 3-4 kids) and he seemed genuinely happy to be back with those whom he knew, even trying to jump up into the arms of the father. It was then that I was reminded that this wasn't about me ... and that I had let my past confuse my present and infuse doubt regarding my actions.
After all, at the end of the day, Achilles' happy ending in the here and now was what was important ... and the memories that I needed to dwell on were not the ones from the troubled times (my Achilles' heel if you will) but the ones from all of the successes I had had in my life thanks to those who took the time to help me ... when *I* was the stray way back when.
That's the lesson of Achilles for me ...
ACHILLES AND HIS HEEL:
http://wserver.scc.losrios.edu/~waxmanr/87online/student_sites/morco_luisa/myths/tale_of_achillies.html
ANOTHER LESSON OF ACHILLES:
http://pets.webmd.com/features/microchipping-your-dog-or-cat
SO THE QUOTE IS APPARENTLY FROM AN ANIME CHARACTER:
http://animeboards.com/showthread.php?t=45714
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