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| Meagan and Jed |
Meagan Downing accompanied Laura Johnson on the trip to TN to rescue the 6 TX Basset Hounds that landed in NY last weekend. She adopted 'Jumbo' Jed this year from ABC (looks like Jed has found the perfect forever home!)
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| Jumbo Jed |
Following are Meagan's reflections on her recent road trip to TN to rescue the TX 6. A most awesome blog post. Thank you Meagan for allowing us to post! I'm sure it speaks for lots of us.
By Meagan Michele Downing
I
hate people.
I
am often chastised for using the word ‘hate’ but I actually mean
it since my definition of people seems to be vastly different from
what seems to be socially acceptable. It encompasses those who are
bigots, racists, who conform to what society says they should be rather than
what they really are, and those who are mean to children as well as
animals. By the time I reached the oh so tender age of twenty three,
I managed to swath myself in hypothetical armor to protect myself
from my fellow homo
sapiens.
I
have always been awkward.
That
kid who could read by the age of six and spent most of her high
school years writing rather than worrying about makeup and boys.
Humans
make me wary.
I
am convinced cats are one day going to attempt to enslave the human
race. Keyword is attempt since they’d be foiled by a laser pointer. I, for one, may welcome Overlord Mittens until the laser pointer
technology is perfected.
Dogs
I love.
A
dog will never judge you for twenty minute rants that start out about
the socio-political climate but somehow end up about how the Tops
around the corner stops carrying salt water taffy once the leaves
start to fall. A dog will lay next to you while you’re sick and
just want to main line OJ while watching movies from the 1990s.
Without arguing about who’s the better actor in What’s
Eating Gilbert Grape?
Depp or DiCaprio. To quote George RR Martin: “A hound will die for
you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.”
(A
Clash of Kings: A Song of Ice and Fire.)
Loyalty and love they give willingly.
I
went on the Tennessee basset transport. It wasn’t until we reached
a rest stop in Pennsylvania that first sadness and then rage took over. Most of
the mission had been devoted to getting there, retrieving the dogs,
and returning to New York. At this rest stop we took just a little
time to play with them. I saw ribs, bad skin, infection, and
parasites. At the same time I saw a pack of dogs that were simply
overjoyed that they were in the sun with soft grass under their paws
with strange humans. Rather than cringing away or snapping they
wanted to give kisses and play. In that moment I was their whole
world. Never mind the fact they only knew me for under twenty four
hours.
Animal
abuse is the face we see most often. In posts on Facebook and those
awful Sarah McLachlan
commercials with the depressing song that invokes tears and
practically assaults your heart strings. Not that it’s a bad thing.
I expected the dogs would probably snap at me or avoid touch
completely. Animal neglect is far worse since it demeans the animal
and it can be assumed they were probably never loved.
I
am familiar with anger. I run on it and stress very well, but sadness
cripples me. I convinced myself a long time ago that sadness means
you are weak. Instead of showing it, I learned to hide behind a mask so it
could not be exploited. To never let them see you cry. I hated that this made me feel sad to the point where I could not put the mask back on. I
hated that it made me feel weak. I hated that there were people out
there who could do this to creatures who only wanted love - who would
probably still look up and wag their tails for their negligent
masters because they loved them. I hated myself just a little for not
being able to snap back from the sadness in order to function.
But
I loved their spirit.
While
they frolicked in the sun I saw their new lives beginning. Remus
living among books with a lovely basset sister. Holly and Yahtzee
living out their golden years on soft beds with humans that loved to
spoil them and didn’t care if they moved slower or needed special
attention. Seymour with a kid that would hold him tight in the dark
to ward off imagined bogeymen. Norman living in a house with a big
back yard to snuffle and occasionally bark at the mail man because
that’s how he rolls. And Camilla getting a “Princess” before
her name since she is so sweet and will enthrall any human she
adopts. I know these are inaccurate fantasies, but I also know that
ABC will place them in homes where they’ll be loved and cared for.
By
the time we returned to New York and I got back to my apartment I
never wanted to go on another transport. I marched from our parked
car, up the porch stairs in a black mood and wondered why I would put
myself through something so emotionally exhausting. Then I got into
my apartment.
Jed
barked when he saw me while he tried to head butt his way out of his
crate. I’d been gone forever to him and now I’d returned. Never
mind that Scott had been home to spoil him. Never mind that it hadn’t
been forever but two days. I opened the crate and instantly Jed
started to hop then run circles around me. I knelt down to greet him
properly but ended up on my back with a face covered in drool. He
spent the night on the floor next to my side of the bed instead of on
his couch. Sunday I couldn’t move around the apartment without
tripping over him or having a fuzzy head on my thigh while I read,
wrote, and watched movies. When we went for walks he put himself
between me and anything he perceived as a threat. I joked with Scott
about how Jed thought his arch nemesis, the black lab across the
street, kidnapped me and now it was up to Super Jed to not let it
happen again. With his power of the Sonic Headbutt he would shadow
his Mommy even if shadowing included almost tripping her in the
kitchen.
Scott
asked me if Jed’s costume would need a cape. After a few moments
quoting various movies and comic books I realized I frequently create
scenarios where my dog is a superhero, and that wouldn’t be possible
if he’d never been on a transport to New York.
On
my first transport I met the people who’d brought Jed the final
leg. I spent time tracking down his story and his files. I emailed
the woman at the shelter where his journey started and she was simply
delighted at the fact he’d been adopted. I thought of when he
walked up to me at Laura’s house as if to say “You’re my
human.” I realized he’d come a long way but his progress wouldn’t
have been possible without someone devoting their time and energy to
bring him to New York - eventually to me. They were surprised when
I thanked them for taking the time and they just shrugged. They’d
done it because it was the right thing to do.
After
reflecting over this I knew I’d go on another transport. Probably
to Tennessee and maybe I’d deliver a rehabilitated basset to their
forever home. I will endure the heart break even though I know the
ending will be a happy one. I will drag myself up my porch stairs,
cursing people and myself.
I
will open the door and be reminded of why I do it.
I
do it because maybe one day I can stop hating people because I see
everyone at ABC coming together from different walks of life to save
these dogs. Together they shoulder the heart break when it descends
like a storm.
I
do it because maybe it can be argued philosophically that a dog with
PTSD saved my soul while making me a better human in the process.
I
do it because I want someone out there to create memories like my
own.
I
do it because of Jed.
I
do it out of love.
So
the end of the story will be a happy one.
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| Scott, Jed and Meagan |
The Slobber Shoppe is the online store for ABC Basset Hound Rescue of NY. The Shoppe began its $3.99 shipping sale on June 28 and only runs to July 8. Be sure to get your orders in before the deadline - this sale only happens twice a year! All orders shipped within the Continental US will ship for only $3.99. Ordering is secure, fun and easy online. LOTS of items are marked down too! 
