"Lets go check out the animals," I said to my wife after I parked the car. We had to drive past the pet store on our way to the grocery store. Outside under a beautiful summer sky stood several cages and around them were gathered several people.
We knew what it was.
We'd seen it before.
Oh, the horror!
Still, what can it hurt to just go look? I thought.
I should not say those words--I should not even think those words. What can it hurt? Are you kidding me?
The answer is--lots, lots of hurt.
I believe the feeling one gets when looking into the eyes of an animal in search of a home is one of the shared experiences of every human on this planet. You remember doing it. You see the animal--be it dog, cat, bunny, even a reptile--and your mind races. Can I do it? Do we have the space? Are we allergic? You think of the trade-offs. There's a million things in the "No" column. Those things seem to dissolve right in front of you eyes when you look at the animal, leaving a big "Yes" as not only a reasonable choice, but one you desperately want it to be.
We have several pets, a dog and two cats--one of which we rescued and gave a home during the middle of a Utah January. And even though those eyes that stared back at me and communicated to my soul, I knew it was not to be. These beautiful, vulnerable creatures would call others their saviors.
We walked away, and to make matters worse, we had to drive by the same caged animals on our way home. A new group of potential adoptive parents now clustered around metal enclosures. I hope someone in the new group looked into those eyes and to them, the "Yes" overcame the "No." I sure hope so.