Unhappy Endings . . .
When I started this blog, I wrote mostly about things happening in my life which affected me in a profound manner. As time went on, I developed a more detached tone, and tried to interject some funny where I could. Today I need to send up the unfunny flag, as a random event last evening has thrown a pall over my weekend.
Diana and I had dinner with friends in town, and we were driving home when we saw a small dog running down the middle of the road toward us. I stopped the car and my friend opened the door and called to the dog, which bolted away from us, but returned to running down the road. We turned the car and followed it a short way. I got from the car and walked slowly toward the animal, calling softly. The dog was afraid and ran from us, but again into the road.
Another passing car had pulled over, and a woman was attempting to the call the dog as we approached. At first it approached her, only to bolt once again. It ran passed me, and I reached over a guardrail to try and grab it. This terrified the dog which started yelping and running even faster down the road, dodging my friend as he attempted to catch the dog.
Again we followed. Again failure. Diana tried as well, with no success. Suddenly more traffic appeared on the road. Cars began pulling over and flashing their lights to other cars to slow down. I pulled over and waited for Diana to get in the car so that we could pursue.
That's when it happened. The driver of a large pickup truck either did not understand what the purpose of the flashing lights were, or was distracted, or maybe something worse.
As the dog stood in the middle of the road, the truck ran it down.
As I pulled up along side the animal, it was stiff and groaning. The woman from the other car that had being trying to help was frantic. "I flashed my lights at the truck and he didn't slow, he didn't even stop." I got a blanket from the trunk of my car to cover the dog, which was now bleeding badly, and making pitiful sounds. I scooped it up and held it to my chest and it seemed to be comforted.
At that moment, I truly did not know what to do, and kind of staggered back and forth with the poor thing in my arms. Diana came and took it from me and suggested we go back to the house and call a vet.
In our area, the procedure, I found out, is to call 9-1-1 and the Police will send Animal Control to the scene. They transport the animal to emergency veterinarian care. As we waited, the dog experienced several seizures, but continued to breathe. Finally, with great trepidation, we handed the injured animal over to Animal Control. And this poor little spec of a life rode out of our lives to a future we will not know.
In that space of 30 minutes, I feel like something profound occurred which I cannot fully comprehend. I know there are great tragedies in the world. Thousands of people are homeless after hurricanes in Louisiana and Mississippi, and thousands and thousands more in South Asia. People suffer everyday from poverty and illness right here in my own community. Yet as I felt this small animal's life ebb and flow in my hands, its suffering touched me in a way that those other things do not, and I felt more powerless than ever to do anything.
In the night, as I woke from restless periods of sleep, the image of that tiny face floated to my mind and I'd begin to say Hail Mary's until I'd fall back asleep.
The reason I write this is to say that even though we tried to do something good and right, I am left with a heavy feeling of responsibility, and an overwhelming sense of failure. And I think of those people, especially the people I love, who take on work that they believe in, knowing they are fighting against the odds.
And they still do it.
And I grieve for every thorn prick their choices cause them, because I believe that it is truly Christ's work that they perform.
You guys should know that I'm really proud of you.
Finally, a link for the Humane Society, on what to do when you find a stray.
posted by (jim) Bo Ba Log at 12:08 PM
4 Comments:
I've been through several similar experiences. I've stood over people as they wheezed their final breath and watched as animals expired.
I think I've always seperated myself from the suffering of people because it's easier to do my job that way. You rationalize their suffering as something of their own making.
Unfortunately, I can offer no words of comfort, because I've found that there are none.
You did what you could to help. That is all anyone can do.
(*warning: this is a long comment, sorry!)
I once read a book, The Sparrow, by Mary Doria Russell, which talked about this subject in explicit detail. That is, the idea that good intentions can go very wrong and that there is nothing you can do to stop certain kinds of destruction. The book was very upsetting to me and continues to haunt me sometimes, even though I read it some 4 years ago. When I see things happen in the word, things large, like the earthquake in Pakistan, and small, like the wounding of the dog, it is very easy for me to become lost in those feelings of helplessness and insufficiency. What is the point in doing anything at all? I often wonder. But what keeps me going, even though in some senses there is not much I can do in the grand scheme of things, is the drive to get everything out of life as I can. As a poem that mom once sent me indicates, I want to live my life to the fullest. And if one is not outraged by the outrageous in society or saddened by the upsetting circumstances of life, then one has turned apathetic. And in some ways I think apathy is the worst kind of sin, the most self-indulgent kind of giving up on life. And I refuse to be that person. So if it means that that you are mourning the hurt of innocent life, I think you are a good person, bo. The best kind of person.
And when I get down and think that the little things in life that I do make no difference I remember this “Letter to a Young Activist” by Thomas Merton:
Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on, essentially an apostolic work, you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless, and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the truth of the work itself. And there, too, a great deal has to be gone through, as gradually you struggle less and less for an idea and more for specific people. The range tends to narrow down, but it gets much more real. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything.
A couple of thoughts...
First, I have never seen a person die, such as in Chad's comment, but I have seen a dog killed by a car, and after close to two decades, I still remember it vividly. So I feel your pain.
But I have also held several injured animals in my hands, so I will offer my simple take. Two instances: Years ago I saw a squirrel in the road right after it was hit by a car, and I picked it up off the hot asphault, wrapped it in an old shirt, and sat holding it in the shade until it died (minutes later). I put the body out in the woods for nature to run its course.
Most recently, when I was in Vicksburg with my folks, two of their dogs got into a fight which seriously injured the smaller of the two. It was easy enough to fix with some expertise and weeks of recovery, but she would certainly have bled to death otherwise. So my mother and I took turns holding her as we got her to the doctor. And though she is just a litle animal and was in pain, I know she knew we were trying to take care of her.
I do think animals know when they are safe. I had no connection with the squirrel, but I like to think that it was not scared or suffering (or suffering a little less) when it died. So rather than thinking of the little dog's pain, feel peace that at least that little dog immediately experienced whatever comfort its brain could comprehend thanks to you. And maybe it'll be OK. Who knows? You and all the other strangers on the road did their part.
Which is my second point: Sometimes it's the action and not the result that is the point. From the Christian perspective, Christ doesn't call us to save the world, he just asks us to try. And even if all of our best efforts don't make a big dent in the world, all the tiny little chinks from all the tiny or seemingly fruitless acts might one day add up to something bigger than we could ever imagine. And remember that hope is not always based on success per se, but rather on the belief that success is ultimately possible.
And lastly, those people you mention in your post that do all the good things seemingly against the odds, those people couldn't do half of those deeds if it weren't for the support and example set by those that love them. They're not in a vacuum. We're all a part of the bigger picture.
I am stunned by this beautiful post and these comments, and don't quite know what to say, but I personally believe that every person, animal, thing that comes into your life is there at that time for a reason. To learn from or get comfort from. I have no question in my mind that you and Diana were on that street not to save that dog, but to console the dog when it was its time to go--just the same as I believe the dog came into your life to allow you to reflect on this and be moved by it. We are nothing without each other.
I am so blessed that you all are my family.
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