Shawn L. Bird

I’m sporting quite a pretty purple bruise on my ankle today. It hurts, but I have to say it’s probably payback, and so I’m not grumbling too loudly.

OJ is really ticklish.  I tease him by tickling him between the pads of his toes.  He twitches and mutters at me while I giggle fiendishly at him.  Technically this is supposed to be de-sensitizing him to having his feet touched to make it easier to groom him.   Apparently, it’s not working.

Yesterday he was lying on the floor and I was sitting beside him clipping his feet.  I was working between the pads of one of his back legs when he gave a mighty twitch.  One might even be inclined to call it a kick.  Whatever it was, it was powerful.

He connected with the clippers, which apparently I was not holding quite firmly enough.  Heavy professional clippers.  Propelled by the force of OJ’s kick, the energy transferred like a physics lesson. They went flying out of my hand and nailed me on the ankle bone.

I grabbed the humming machine and muttered something very lady-like.

OJ gave the slightest smirk, and settled his head back onto the floor. 

Today I am branded with a letter on my ankle.  I can’t quite decide what it is.  Perhaps G for “Gotcha” or perhaps L for “Loser!”

One for OJ.

Today’s blog is an article by Cheryl Zuccaro originally published on Poodle-L.  I think there is an important message here about compassion and respect.  Thanks Cheryl for allowing me to reprint this.
.
In Memory of Binky

Have I ever told you about Binky my first poodle? Binky came into my life as a High School graduation present shortly before I moved away from Bakersfield CA. My Mama bought her from an ignorant backyard breeder as a teacup poodle. Binky fulfilled every bad, small dog stereotype. She yapped, she bit (including me), her legs were too long (resulting in six leg surgeries in her lifetime) her eyes bulged, and she really hated being groomed. She was also brilliant, funny, loving and guarded me through my turbulent twenties.

We shared a little apartment in Lennox CA for the last five years of her life. Let me tell you about Lennox: My home was very close to the LA Airport, so close that all conversation just stopped when the jets flew over. It was a rough, gang neighborhood, Black gangs above Lennox Blvd; Hispanic gangs below Lennox Blvd. The Rodney King riots started in Lennox. There was so much graffiti in Lenox that even the chain link fences were graffitied!

I lived there because I could afford the rent, could have a dog and had a small fenced yard all to myself. Since I was clearly not part of the gang community, (blonde curly hair, little white poodle, no visible tats) I was fairly safe – aside from the occasional, stray bullets. Binky and I walked through the neighborhood every day -rain or shine.

When Binky was 13 years old, she had a stroke and I had to let her go. It was the first time I every had to make that dreaded decision. I was devastated. I was a mess, the grief seemed unbearable.

I can clearly recall walking to the corner liquor store for some ‘medicine’ a few days after she died; when a scary guy – big guy, wife beater T-shirt, multiple gang tattoos – scar-a-ree, walked up to me and said ”Hey man, where is your little dog? I have not seen you walking your little dog.” Tearfully I told him that she died. His response was “Hey man, I’m really sorry, that was a cute little dog.” That day, compassion from such an unexpected source really helped me; it helps me still.

I have worked in law enforcement for over 13 years mostly as a 9-1-1 dispatcher. In law enforcement it is easy to view people as good or bad, worthy or unworthy. It is easy to stop caring at all. Seeing to the heart of all people is so much more rewarding. As a dispatcher I had many great opportunities to help people, to make a difference in their lives. They don’t know who I am; they may not remember me at all. But I remember, I get to keep the warm fuzzies.

Binky died on May 29, 1991, my eyes still blur when I think of her. But part of her heart beats within mine, and I will always be grateful for her guidance and love. I will also, always be grateful for that chance encounter, that compassion from a stranger which helps me to find compassion for all.

.

Thanks for sharing Binky with us, Cheryl!