Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Adventure at the Wiener Crossing

The miniature dachshund was so small, it took a second for my brain to register that this was a dog. It jumped off the curb into a busy four-lane highway directly in the path of my car.

Luckily I had just enough time to be able to signal the car behind me and brake. I immediately regretted honking to scare it back onto the curb when it started and looked like it might dart into the lane next to me.

“NOOOOO!”

Fortunately that smart little dog listened. It wavered, looked worried, stopped guiltily, clearly wondering what it had done wrong. It had presumably been enjoying an unexpected adventure until I’d started making horrible noises at it. I waved an apology to the man behind me and dove out of my car. The man behind me signaled back, “Yes. Get the dog.” With a kind smile.

That was when I realized the thoughtful driver next to me had stopped as well, immobilizing the southbound lanes of rush hour traffic in order to help protect the little dog. The young man got out to help. “Whatdya do?” he asked me.

I didn’t know. If I’d been heading toward home, I would have put it in my car and checked for tags. Driven around. Asked people. But I had somewhere to go. Fortunately the little wiener dog finally understood that the direction it was heading was upsetting a whole lot of humans. It wheeled around and bounded for home in that determined, ear-trailing, stubby-legged gallop that only a dachshund can achieve. That was when I looked behind me and realized it had a partner in crime—a little brown dog several cars back attended by a group of women who were making sure it didn’t continue its little doggy-holiday alone.

It wasn’t until I turned back to my car that I was able to appreciate the rows and rows of traffic as far as I could see that had come to a halt for two little dogs on a spoiled adventure. All of the nearby drivers were out of their cars and actively engaged in a joint dog-herding venture. Not a single one was looking upset about anything but the fate of those pets.

We hear about people who are cruel to animals. I thought I would pass along what was for me a pleasant reminder that most are not. It took a whole lot of strangers gathered on the highway, united over their shared love of another species, to send me a nice message I needed: My own species has its moments as well.


What a paradox that we connect with God, with divinity, with our flesh and blood and time and space. We connect with God in our humanity. ~Anne Lamott, Stitches




15 comments:

  1. So glad you saved him! Nobody wants a mangled wiener!

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    1. Honestly, I really do feel like half the city prevented "mangled wiener." The horror!

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  2. Hari OM
    This gave me tingles... what a great moment... albeit heart-stopping at first! YAM xx

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    1. I admit I had to wait for the shaking to wear off until I could think of it as a positive experience!

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  3. What an uplifting post. And I love your Anne Lamott quote.

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    1. Thanks, Donna! You know it's funny that I don't think of myself as a big Anne Lamott fan until I look at my loooong list of quotes. She's all over the place! In fact, now that I think about it, I love the fact that she's so disarming. She'll sneak profundity into offhand humor or slip deep spirituality into a comment that borders on sacrilege, but she almost always manages to catch me off guard in some way. LOVE that.

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  4. I lovelovelove everything about this, Tammy. I love your writing. I love your message. I love the Anne Lamott quote. We do need more reminders like this, that, in general, we humans are a tender lot. When we lead with our hearts, we touch God.

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    1. Your comment really touched me, Teri. How true about touching God. Thank you!

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  5. It's so refreshing to know that a whole group of people would actually put their perennial impatience on hold for a little dog.

    Pat
    Critter Alley

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    1. That sums it up just perfectly, Pat!

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  6. Tammy--what a heart-warming story. I wonder if this could be crafted into a CS story. Certainly it wasn't your dog, but for the moment it WAS your dog--and for the moment that dog belonged to a whole bunch of drivers...

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    1. Hmmm. Maybe micro?! This was a mini Dachshund, after all. ;) I never cease to be amazed at your ability to sniff out a potential CS story!

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  7. My daughter has two mini doxies, and I can't begin to imagine her panic if they ever got loose. Thanks for talking up the "good," because we sure need to hear it!

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  8. I actually thought of your daughter, because this mini doxie resembled the black one. I like to picture these little dogs' owners being so relieved to see them. They probably don't have a clue where they were!

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