Penny

I have a new friend. We just met yesterday, and we hit if off instantly. Her name is Penny, and she is an American Bull Terrier; a pit bull in the common vernacular. I don't like calling those dogs that, because it perpetuates something that I think is beyond horrific. I had heard about her from her human, but I will say that I had to ask my friend on several occasions not to share with me all the details of Penny's scary past. Maybe I'm a sissy, but I always stop people when they want to tell me things like that. Yesterday when Penny and I met for the first time, her human started to tell me about Penny's past, and I asked her again to please not do that. She smiled, and said, "Okay. Penny is a rescue."

Penny gave me lots of kisses, and I kissed her back. I had to stop talking in the baby talk voice I use with dogs, because it only got her more excited. She brought me her toys and her blankets, and we shared a chair, with her sometimes in my lap, and other times, curled behind me nuzzling my ear. Penny is amazing. She is a young dog, wonderfully muscular and strong, and at the same time beautiful in a very feminine way with her white coat with black spots and her pink ears and muzzle. She calmed down a little when I began to talk in my normal voice, and we had a good time snuggling together.

I found myself a little nauseous, though, as I thought about how some humans treat some dogs like Penny. She has a wonderful home, because both my friend and her husband are wonderfully gentle and loving people. They adore Penny, and their other dog who is a Boxer named Ziva. Ziva and I are already old friends. I tried to shake it off, as I said good-bye and drove home, but the feeling stayed with me for a while. I wanted to look on the bright side, that now Penny has a good home and no one will ever hurt her again. I tried to focus on that, but it made me sad, and the sadness stayed with me for a long time. Once I start dwelling on the sadness and meanness in the world, it can really start to spiral with me. I go from dog fighting to rooster fighting to abused children to Syria and on and on it goes. I become overwhelmed with the sadness and badness and meanness in the world.

This morning I feel much better. I know that the world is a wonderful place, and that there is a lot more goodness in the world than badness. There are a lot more happy things than sad things. And there are many more kind people than there are mean ones.

Penny seems to know that, for she is a very happy dog. She seemed to know that I was a friend, in the exuberant way she greeted me and brought me all her treasures and her kisses. So why should I be sad, when Penny is not?

Susan