The Story of a Dog Who Thought She Knew Better

       Last summer, my cat, Greta, had her first litter of kittens. The fact that it was her first, and that she was still practically a kitten herself, it's normal that she would just be figuring things out. Trying and not doing everything perfectly, like any other mother. At the same time Greta was trying to be the best mother she could, the mothering instincts of my Black Lab, Sauda, kicked in. She stayed by the newborn kittens all day with occasional breaks. It was when Greta left to take her own break that we had to watch the dog. I can't read animal minds, but I like to think I can understand their actions pretty well. I imagined that Sauda was questioning the mothering skills of said feline, worried that the cat didn't know how to be a proper mother. Sauda thought she could do it better. Many times, the dog tried to make her move, picking up the kittens very gently in her mouth and trying to take them away. Each time, a human was around to stop her. Except once. One day, when I wasn't home, Greta got up for a break, something that every mother needs. Sauda took her chance. One by one she picked up the four babies, still too young to see, and took them into the garden to nurse them, to be the mother she thought Greta was incapable of being. She went against nature, what was supposed to be. She took matters into her own paws, and accidentally squished the littlest of the kittens. Ghost white, blind, and too young to crawl away, the little girl found herself smothered to death.

       How often do we as humans decide we know better than God? How often do we take matters into our own hands, only to screw everything up? It is our nature to want everything to go perfectly. “If you want something done right, do it yourself.” That is human mentality. What so many of us don't see is that God has everything under control. We can trust him because he knows what is best. The moment we decide that what we want is better than what God has planned, is the moment we risk everything. It is when Sauda decides that she is going to go against what God ordained, because she thinks she can do better. She killed the very thing she thought she was saving. No, she didn't mean to. How many times do we use that excuse. “Well I didn't mean to.” Of course you didn't. What you did was decide that you could do better than the one who created you and the situation you're in.

     So the next time you're faced with a choice, to trust God, or to do it yourself, remember the story of a dog who thought she could do it better.  

Love is Insanity

         In the second week after moving to Colorado, tragedy has already stricken. Today I buried my feline friend, Margaret Munchkin Kitty or Greta for short. She wasn't even two years old, but Mother Nature always has her way. I'm not new to this, to losing a pet, a companion. There was my dog, Bella, my cat's, Hattie, Tenny, and Astrid, and my fish, Doug and Sebastian. Every time I'm faced with the chance of a new pet, I always ask myself the same question. “Why are you getting another pet, they always seem to die.” And every time I bury them, I ask myself, “Why did you get another pet, you knew this would happen.” I don't know why I do this to myself. Why do I constantly put my heart out there? Why do I love when I know I'll just get hurt again? It's the definition of insanity. I do the same thing over and over expecting different results. So maybe love is insanity. Here we are, humans going about our lives, loving and losing and being insane. That's what humans do. That's what humans are. Why? I've come to the conclusion that, at least for me, it's having something to love, to care for, to rely on you. And I keep doing it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, one of them will live past two.

        As I watched my dad dig a hole in the dark, rich soil of Colorado, I thought to myself, I'm a pro at this. It shouldn't bother me anymore. Why do I still fight back tears? Why am I so human?Why do I keep loving? I recalled an episode of BBC Sherlock that I'd seen. I remembered a quote which Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, said to him.

       “All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.”

       Maybe not. And maybe I tried not to care, not to feel. Maybe I stroked Greta's face and tried not to cry. But I did. Not a lot, but I cried. I don't know why. Maybe a feeling of yet another defeat. Another of my loves not living past two. What am doing wrong? I didn't make her ill. I cared for her as best as I knew how. None of my pets have died because of something I did. I mean, maybe if I had trained Bella, she wouldn't have gotten in the neighbors trash, and been shot. But I didn't shoot her. I didn't neglect any of my animals. Sure, maybe I should have cleaned out Sebastian's tank more often. Maybe I should have put a water heater in there for him. Regardless of what I did or didn't do, I keep trying. I keep loving. For those kisses, for those cuddles, for the excitement at feeding time. For the look of love and never hate or malice, I keep loving. I suppose, maybe it's worth it. To have loved and lost, rather than never loved at all. I'm so thankful for the time I had with Greta, and I'm going to miss her with my whole heart. Those big green eyes were worth every tear.

      Maybe I'm insane. But so is life.