Clairity

It is rare that a string of occurrences leads to an outcome so perfect, so timely, that it would be ludicrous to consider all of it accidental.

The following story has only been minimally embellished; my wife, who also serves as my editor in blog and life, has kept me mostly to the facts.

It started one Friday morning with a little disagreement between me and my sister-in-law, Amy, over dog facts. We each own a Brittany spaniel from the same litter. I contended that the dogs are born without a tail. Amy was of a different opinion – that the breed gets their tail docked at birth. Though I am seldom wrong, Amy annoyingly got on Google and read aloud: “The Brittany has a tail at birth, but it is nearly impossible to find one with a tail since a reputable breeder will insist on docking the tail prior to sale.” Well, that was that and we moved on to other arguments.

The next day was devoted to my acquiring a tool for my woodworking hobby: a bandsaw. I found one on Craigslist in Chattanooga, 4 hours from my home in North Carolina. “Let’s go!” said my adventurous wife, “We can make a Saturday of it!” And so we went, cargo trailer in tow, to pick up my used bandsaw, with no idea what was in store.

As we neared our destination, the road became rougher and narrower, eventually leading to a dirt road in a very rural area near Chattanooga. The seller had sent a foreboding text – “Don’t follow GPS. It will get you lost.” Finally, after several winding turns and a steep descent into a river valley, we arrived at a unkempt mobile home surrounded by rusted children’s play sets and other unintentional yard art. I stepped out of my truck with a little trepidation. The thought occurred to me that this would be a perfect place to lure unsuspecting bandsaw buyers with ample cash on hand. Even my wife, who usually imagines only the best possible outcome in any scenario, was worried enough to stay in the truck.

The seller, Mike, who bore a striking resemblance to Cheech of Cheech and Chong fame, greeted me outside his trailer. I checked out the goods, and we agreed to a price. As I went back out to the truck to get the cash, I noticed a white and orange flash of a dog running around the yard. It looked like our Brittany. Intrigued, I asked Mike, “Is that your dog?” Mike said, “Nope. It doesn’t belong to anyone. It’s been hanging around here for a couple of months. We are about to call the pound to come get it, cuz its bothering the neighbor’s chickens.”After loading the bandsaw and turning around the truck, my wife sat with the truck running, waiting for me to get in. Instead, I grabbed a piece of beef jerky from my glovebox and decided to get a closer look at the Brittany look-alike. The dog was obviously apprehensive of humans, and stayed just out of reach. It took several minutes to coax the mutt to come close enough to grab the jerky. Eventually, it did, and even allowed me to briefly stroke its head. I then decided to take a leap… I put an arm around its chest, and lifted it off the ground. It didn’t try to bite me, and didn’t even put up a fight. I was astonished. “ I can’t let this dog go to the pound,” I thought to myself. I held the dog up so my wife could see I had picked it up. We had been together ten years, during which time she had witnessed me rescuing snapping turtles, baby opossums, snakes, guinea hens, tarantulas, and llamas, to mention a few. The look on my face told her that resistance was futile. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. The dog was coming home with us! I justified my actions to myself, thinking, “Well, at least we can find her a good home.” But my wife had a different plan now. “Her name is ‘Claire,’” she told me adamantly, and gathered up the furball in her lap on a blanket.

The “Tail” Continues

Jill and I were in a bit of shock. We had gone to Chattanooga to pick up a saw and had ended up with a pure-bred Brittany WITH A TAIL?! Claire had never been in a car, I was sure. As we pulled off, she looked nervously out the window, no doubt wondering why the ground was moving when her legs weren’t. I was glad she was in my wife’s lap instead of mine, as I imagined just how many ticks and fleas were moving to North Carolina with Claire. My wife gently rubbed her belly until she fell fast asleep. Her ribs were showing and her coat was nappy. I got the distinct impression this was the first safe resting place she had enjoyed for a while. She slept for almost the entire four hour car trip home.

We arrived home uneventfully after stopping for a pee break once along the way. Claire loved being in Jill’s lap. We promptly gave her a warm bath (good thing Brittany’s love water). I removed a couple of dozen ticks from all over Claire, and she only objected mildly. She had not shown any interest in eating; the puppy chow we picked up on the way home was rejected. We left her alone in our guest room for a few minutes and returned to witness something I had never before seen a dog do: Claire grabbed a mouthful of dog kibble, carried it over to the couch, and tucked it in between the cushions – she was saving food for later! That act sealed the deal for us. Claire was home. She would never again have to starve or suffer the elements.

Claire’s Saving Grace

We have three other dogs, and we were worried about introducing a disease to them from Claire, so we kept them apart. Now that Claire wasn’t going anywhere, we sought to get her an appointment with a vet to confirm she didn’t have a locating chip and make sure she was healthy. “It’s Sunday,” I thought, “who’s going to be open on a Sunday?!” But we got on the phone anyway. Earlier in the year, we had noticed from the signage that an old white church near our home was being converted to a veterinary clinic. “Saving Grace Animal Hospital,” as it was named, was our first call. To our surprise, the lady answering the phone said, “Bring her on in.” Thirty minutes later, Jill, I and Claire were sitting in a beautiful new vet clinic awaiting Claire’s first doctor visit. The doctor carefully checked Claire for a chip as we held our breath. “No chip,” he declared, “And she’s very thin, but she looks pretty healthy otherwise.” A few vaccinations later, we were heading out to the car. “Thanks for seeing us so quickly,” I said, “When did you guys open?” “Today is our first day,” said the receptionist. My wife and I looked at each other and laughed in disbelief.

Go with the Flow

Claire has been with us for almost a month now. I have always been of the opinion that life has to be conquered with raw struggle. Things are not supposed to be easy, or they aren’t worth it, right? Well, maybe not. I can’t explain how things lined up to end with Claire joining our family. I can only say that it felt more like an adventurous float down an unknown river than the clawing and scratching that my usual day feels like. As the story unfolded in real time, my wife and I were overtaken by the sense that things are as they should be. Could it be that all of life is actually that way? The entire experience of finding Claire and bringing her into our family feels real, vivid, and perfect, almost like she chose us rather than we chose her. If I had read about it happening to someone else, I would immediately assume the story had been made up. But it happened. And it still is. She has merged so seamlessly into our home that I marvel about it every day. I guess that’s how one knows that something is meant to be: we now can’t imagine what it was like when Claire wasn’t with us.

What if just being open, accepting is all it takes to move towards life as you have dreamed about it? What if friction, fight, and resistance to an undesired life situation is what’s actually holding you there? I have always seen life lessons and metaphors everywhere I looked. This time, the lesson found me.

May you find ease, openness, and acceptance in your life as your miraculous story unfolds.

Faramarz Hidaji, M.D.

The author befriending Claire the first time