Going Back

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
– Nelson Mandela

I’m in my shelter gear: t-shirt, jeans and the black Wellingtons Kerry bought for me in Ireland. It will be my first time back to the shelter since we lost Molly. The day I picked her up, there had been a number of pups on her ward who had similar symptoms to hers and I can’t help but wonder who’s still there and who is gone. Foolishly, I hadn’t thought of how that would be: dogs are euthanized every day, meaning there would be dogs missing – dogs I’ve walked before, sat with in the sunny yard to pitch a tennis ball and reward with a treat. Dogs would be missing and I wouldn’t know why. Leave it to the morose leanings of my mind to think the worst. I realize some dogs will be gone because they’ve been adopted and fostered and that is wonderful. Most importantly, I’m not going for an inventory. I’m going because the dogs need their wiggles walked out – a break from the cement and steel – and because I need to go back and start again.

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