FETCH ME UNDERSTANDING

Rumi (Ru) is a misunderstood soul. She is teaching me about patience and accepting ourselves and others just as we are.

When I first met Ru, I wasn't looking for a new dog to add to our pack. I didn't even want another dog, and at the time, I didn't know if I ever would. It had only been 5 months since I said goodbye to my Nala, and the depth of my grief seemed inconsolable. The pain from losing Nala a month after my mother was something I had never experienced before and wouldn't wish on anyone.

Additionally, I was trying to understand and help Koda grieve as well. I knew losing Nala was hard on both of us. After all, life with Nala was all he ever knew. But, despite his special bond with Nala, Koda preferred a pack of humans over a pack of dogs so I didn't think a new canine companion would heal his broken heart anymore than it would mine.

In the first months after losing Nala, Koda was clingy one moment and withdrawn the next. His anxiety increased significantly, escalating into severe separation anxiety that would propel him through the windows of our home or digging out from under the fence in our yard. I believe he was looking for an escape from the anxiousness and pain from loneliness. He was with Nala when she passed so I know he understood she was gone, but I sometimes wonder if he was also escaping to look for her, not understanding where she physically went after she passed.

He didn't want to play, which was okay with me since I didn't have the desire or energy for it. We could barely muster up the strength to go for walks. I tried an animal communicator, increased his CBD, used Reiki and hired a dog walker to take Koda out for walks during the day while I was at work. Eventually we added prozac to the regiment. But, nothing helped. He developed a serious case of pancreatitis that I believe was stress induced. Over time he stopped eating, becoming anorexic, and started to slowly waste away before my eyes. My anxiety was through the roof, not knowing how to help him and fearing I was going to lose him too.

Many times after Nala died in trying to manage Koda's anxiety, people asked me, "what about another dog?" Besides the fact that another dog couldn't replace what we had lost, I honestly didn't think another dog would help Koda. I actually thought it would make it worse. I thought Koda would be happier as an only dog, finally getting all the attention, and that adding a new dog would only cause us both more stress. Plus, I wasn't ready for another dog: I didn't have the energy, patience, or open-heartedness to build the connection and make the commitment every dog deserves.

Quick digression:When a person or animal you love dies, it's like people skim through a catalog of platitudes they bestow upon the grieving, like they are reading from a terrible grief playbook. Things like: "At least they aren't suffering," "They are in a better place," "You can always get another dog." Take it from a person who has been doing grief since the age of six: none of those platitudes help. Actually, they make it worse. Authentic connections and actually showing up through the ebbs and flows of grief, are the only salve for a broken, grieving heart.

As I tried to navigate and understand both our grief, I began bringing Koda to work with me at the hospital once a week to round on health care workers during the pandemic; the only activity where I started to see a glimpse of my boy return. He was happy, full of smiles and tail wags, as he greeted staff and fulfilled his purpose. And, it was the only place he would eat a full size, normal meal.

When I saw the physical manifestation of Koda's grief change when he was connected to a pack, I began considering a new dog to add to ours at home. I reached out to my animal communicator for insight, and she said that Koda was pleading to her for me to get another dog; albeit the right one. And, that Nala was already working behind the scenes to bring us the perfect one who needed us as much as we needed her. Koda is picky and we had our kitty, Banzai to consider. And, no puppies for either of us.

So, I began browsing animal rescue sites anticipating a long journey to find the right new dog. Quickly I thought I had found us the perfect match and was in the midst of making plans with the rescue to meet a beautiful Rottie mix named Jasmine, when the staff person abruptly ghosted me. I worked in animal rescue for almost a decade so I have a lot of respect, patience and tolerance when it comes to the adoption process but reliving our circumstances on paper and in conversation only to be abandoned before a meet and greet left me shocked and discouraged; I didn't have the emotional fervor to play games.

I backed off my search, but several weeks later during my casual Facebook browsing, the sweetest face popped up in my feed and I couldn't look away. Her name was Rue and she was about a year and a half. I reached out to her foster mom and everything fell into place easily and quickly from there. Good with cats. Loved other dogs. Nervous with people but a sweet temperament. Her story started in Mississippi where Rue and her littermates were found outside an airport as pups. Mom and one of the littermates were run over and killed by a car, leaving Rue and her four siblings to fend for themselves for weeks before an airport police officer found them and contacted a rescue. They were brought to Maine and all adopted in early 2020. But, a year later Rue's family returned her because of her nervousness around strangers. (Note: Rue means regret).

Rue's foster mom and I talked for a long time. Rue was being fostered in Southern Maine so to reduce stress for all, her foster agreed allowed me to come down and meet Rue and if all went well I could bring her home and foster her for a few weeks to see if it would be a match. After all, it was up to Koda. And I knew our best chance of success was Koda meeting her on his turf.

Given Rue's history and my experience in animal sheltering, I was prepared for a long road ahead. I expected her to hide from me. I expected Koda to be hesitant in welcoming her so I planned for slow, cautious introductions starting outside. I expected her not to eat for a day or two. I expected accidents in the house. I expected her to try to escape. I expected anxiety in the car, in our home and in new every day experiences. I expected her and Koda to co-exist in different areas of the house for awhile.

Instead, the reality that unfolded can only be explained by Divine intervention. When I brought Rue home and introduced her to Koda, neither would let me do the slow, cautious meet and greet on leash as I intended. When they saw each other, it was like they were long lost friends being reunited. They pulled towards each other with full tail wags, until they were nose to nose. Koda kissed Rue on the muzzle and play bowed. I have never seen Koda affectionate or play with another dog other than Nala. So, I believe either Koda and Rue are two souls previously connected and reuniting across lifetimes or our Nala sent a little bit of her spirit with Rue so Koda would know she was a gift for him. So in gratitude for that gift, I felt she deserved a new name. I immediately renamed her Rumi, for beauty, and call her Ru, dropping the e, which changes the meaning to scholar, for the smart, curious dog she is.

“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.” -Rumi

Early on, seeing Koda happy again, eating, playing, being affectionate was all I needed. She was a gift for him. I felt a connection to Ru through Koda, but didn't feel my heart opening to her. Our first 6 months were not an easy road. It was not love at first sight for Ru and I like it was for her and Koda. There were accidents in the house, chewed furniture, delays in training and a whole lot of my grief turning ugly towards her. I raised my voice, I was impatient, and I had doubts that we were her forever home. But, then one day all of that changed...

I remember the day my heart knew I could love her, that I did love her: November 18, 2021- two days after she ate a chunk of my leather chair after weeks of escalated naughty dog behavior. I became unglued. I screamed, I cried, I scolded, I considered returning her to rescue and I froze her out for two whole days. Not my finest moment. But, then on the morning of November 18th, I woke up in tears; grieving my Nala, grieving my mom, grieving all the things in my life going wrong, and grieving the failure I was with Ru.

And then, this rarely affectionate little tri-colored dog slowly belly crawled across the bed first thing in morning to lightly lick the tears from my face and then rest her head on my chest, looking up at me with the most loving, forgiving, apologetic, gentle gaze. She laid there while I talked to her, heart to heart. I apologized for my impatience, for being ugly, and for missing Nala so deeply that I had no room for her. We talked about expectations and what was acceptable behavior for both of us. And then we forgave each other and snuggled. That moment was a game changer.If this little dog could forgive me at my worst, witness my ugliest moment and love me anyway, then she deserved the same from me.

From that moment on we made some modifications to our routine, and there hasn’t been a chewed piece of furniture or accident by her in the house since. Once I opened my heart to her and shifted my energy towards her, everything changed and we both moved forward.

At two years old and now almost a year in our home, we are discovering that Ru is so much more than an anxiety ridden pup. She is not only teaching me patience, but a deeper understanding for looking beyond the surface to truly try and understand another being. If, as a child, I had to survive on the streets, darting traffic and witnessing my mom and sibling be run over by a human and their car, I too, would be scared of skateboards and other fast moving objects on wheels in my path and strangers I don't know. If I lived in a home where their idea of socializing me was to force me to interact in a large group of people, kennel me when people came over rather than build my confidence, or allow fast moving children in my space without boundaries, I too would be weary, anxious and triggered.

Helping Ru build confidence by slowly introducing her to new situations, advocating for her space around strangers, and finding things she excels at like obedience, swimming and fetch is allowing her to settle into her own skin and letting her true colors shine. We are discovering that she has a sweet, sassy spirit that rounds out our pack. She is playful, curious and becoming a wonderful hiking companion on the trails with Koda and I.

Ru has taught me to approach our relationship with mindfulness. To slow down and look at how my own energy is affecting hers and to spend time understanding what influences her behavior. I hope in time she will get more comfortable in trusting humans; she certainly has the curiosity and desire; as we take walks in open spaces, she often wants to sniff everyone who passes by. She just prefers it on her own terms, to initiate with no eye contact and void quick movements. And, she is slowly letting people we spend time with regularly into her trust circle.

I often observe Ru and the way she navigates the world with awe: she has the curiosity and courage to try new things, to put herself out in the middle of things she is most afraid of. And each time she gets a little more relaxed, a little more confident, and a little more accepting. Something we can all learn from. We are all so quick to see the world only from our vantage point. We listen only to respond and react, to judge, shame, guilt or condescend; to be heard but not seek to understand. Adding Ru to our pack is a daily opportunity to practice patience, but I am also learning to soften my tone, my reactions, my frustrations, and my overall energy. Something we we each can take into the world as we meet and interact with humans from different backgrounds or with different point of view, reminding us all we come from different experiences. Each of those experiences matters and we are all worthy of understanding. And really that is all any of us can do, that is how we grow and how we build an understanding of the world around us and compassion for all of humanity.

Life is one big trust exercise. We all have something to learn and we all have something to teach. We can build trust and tolerance with each other through compassion. And my sweet, little Ru shows me that everyday, as we journey together to Fetch Me Understanding.

With love and understanding,

Stacey & Ru