Fur Therapy
How an Animal Shelter Changed and Saved My Life.
I can remember.
I can remember the countless times I fell into long bouts of depression. I can remember the times I contemplated, and then attempted, suicide. I can remember the times my parents cried and tried to help in vain to get me to a happier state. I felt lost, alone, an outcast, trying to hide my sadness to the best of my ability behind a fake shield of a smile. What scared me the most was that I didn’t know how I could truly be happy.
And then came the hug.
She looked at me quizzically.
She felt as if she knew me in passing before. She recognized the shirt, continuing her stare as her head tilted to the side. Sitting down in front of me, it was as if she was looking into my soul, trying to find something troubling within me. She spotted it, almost looking sad when she did.
And almost out of nowhere, she jumped into my arms, hugging and licking me with all her might and power.
Yoda (formerly Toyota) was always known as an affectionate pup. She actually came to Animal Haven pregnant and gave birth to 5 puppies as soon as she arrived. But it was that hug that made me realize that there are living beings who, no matter how low of a level you’re at, unconditionally care about you.
It is one thing to have an animal grow up in your family, where the pup or cat is a deeply loved member of the household. It is another to help these furry beings get a second chance at life and happiness.
I always loved animals.
I never had one growing up (save for a goldfish during college for the relative-average time of one week) but always hoped. Whether it was working to do well in school, doing extra chores around the house, or simply just making my parents happy and proud, I hoped that there would be some action that would convince my parents to drive me down to the pet store, look at the wonderful furry friends, and leave with a new best friend.
When it was apparent that it wasn’t going to happen, I hoped for the second-best option: to work at an animal shelter. To my sadness, it was so much harder than I thought. Most had limits to the number of volunteers, many had pages of paperwork to fill out, interviews, tests, so many hurdles that felt almost endless to jump over. I felt hopeless.
In one last attempt, one late night Google search, I stumbled upon one shelter with a weirdly simple online application. It seemed too good to be true, that its simplicity was meant to provide a false light, that my dream of volunteering would possibly come true but be shot down in an instant. I filled it out, hit the submission, only to see “The process will take 4–6 weeks.”
I was devastated. I should have known it was a false light after all.
48 hours later, I was proven wrong again.
One acceptance e-mail and two orientations later, I headed to 251 Centre Street in SoHo to report for my first day, purple shirt in hand, as a volunteer for Animal Haven, a no-kill animal shelter now approaching its 50th anniversary in 2017. My heart raced. I could finally be happy again because I was surrounded by so many wonderful cats and dogs! I jumped at the first opportunity to take one of the dogs for a walk. It was finally happening!
One block out of the shelter, the dog slumped to the ground, looking at me, refusing to move. I had failed as a volunteer. I burst into tears.
Another false light.
She laughed and smiled, both genuine.
“Why are you crying?? It’s only your first day!” A fellow volunteer, a young Asian girl, jogged to the scene. The dog jumped up, excited to see her, as she took the leash. “Walk alongside with me. She has a specific path she likes to walk on. You didn’t do anything wrong, I didn’t do well my first day either,” the girl calmingly told me. I shruged and wiped the tears away. Maybe she was right. Maybe it will get better.
It did.
I worked closely with the girl for the next month or two, working with multiple dogs and cats at the same time. I bonded with Emilio, I sprinted with Gary Lamar, I explored with Binx, and I toyed with Tama. I saw the tough times of working at a shelter (the owner surrender) and was part of the wonderful times (putting a new tartan-colored winter coat on Landon before he headed out the door with his new family). But there still was something missing. I didn’t truly know if the pups and cats I worked so closely with appreciated the work, if they truly were thankful for that second chance at life, whether it was being rescued from puppy mills, dogfighting rings, hoarders, the mean streets, or even just pet store rejects because the families “weren’t just ready for the responsibility.”
Toyota’s hug was the magic bullet.
The hugs and licks only lasted a few minutes but they felt like a lifetime. The soul searching she did to me, the body language, and the stare that simply said “thank you for what you do,” changed me.
It made me realize how powerful and happy animals make us. Why we treat them like human beings. Why Tom Junod wrote one of the most powerful pieces I’ve ever read.
There is something so powerful about volunteering at an animal shelter and realizing how grateful those animals are to us. How instinct kicks in and the realization that there is hope for a happy life, and that there are wonderful men and women working behind the scenes to keep making them smile.
Animal Haven, its wonderful staff, and its loving furry family lifted my spirits and saved my life.
