This afternoon, I fell in love. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, but there was an almost-instant bond of friendship and responsibility that lasted for four short hours before I had to regretfully say goodbye.
She was a nine-month old Pit Bull full of love and spunk; we spent the afternoon walking and playing at a fundraising event in the hopes that she would meet her future family. Tails wagged as we met other dog-friends; kisses were given as she sat in my lap when we took a break and sat at the top of a small hill. And when it was over, I hugged her goodbye, told her she was a good girl, and prayed that she would soon find her forever home.
When I first started volunteering for the local humane league, I didn’t realize the profound effect it would have on me. I had just lost two of the dogs I had grown up with and wanted to find something that would ease the everyday heartache, wanted to find a way to give back.
Walking down those hallways the first time and passing cages filled with the four-legged friends I’d always associated with love and laughter and happiness, tears stung in my eyes. These animals shouldn’t be here, I thought. They should be going for long walks or playing catch outside in their own backyard; they should be curled up on the couch as their family watched TV or next to a little boy’s bed, guarding, protecting. Loving and loved. Seeing those animals in their cages, eager and waiting, sparked something in me — a purpose — a desire to protect these creatures who have, in their way, always protected me.
And I knew: this was my cause.
Empathy and compassion can take many forms, and though we might never quite understand why we react and relate so strongly to what we do, the fact that we feel so passionate towards something in the first place plays a large part in making a difference. Personally, my empathy and compassion has always manifested itself towards animals, particularly in their humane treatment and, these past two years, in finding homes for shelter dogs so that the love and joy they’ve so freely offered may be reciprocated in the form of a family, a place to call home.
According to the Humane Society of the United States, there are 6-8 million dogs and cats in United States animal shelters each year, with roughly half of those animals being euthanized due to lack of space and financial resources. Too many people are giving up their animals for adoption, while not enough are adopting from shelters.
More than 20% of people who give up their dogs originally adopted them from a shelter. These animals may spend the majority of their lives in shelters, some never knowing what it means to have a family; still, many more are rescued from puppy mills, forgotten and neglected in a small wire cage — the only home they’ve ever known.
I’d volunteered and worked for other causes before, but while in some cases I wasn’t able to emotionally handle the full capacity of what those causes meant, inhumanity towards animals is something that fuels me and makes me work that much harder to see a change, transforming that heartache into action. I believe in standing up for the causes for which you feel most passionate. I believe that passion drives action, and action — no matter how small — is what sparks a change.
Today, as I handed over the leash and said goodbye to my new four-legged friend, I knew that in some small way that I may never know or understand, I had made a difference. I can’t change the world, but for these animals, maybe I can help play a part in changing their world. Maybe I can be the change for them.
The Changemaker
Channeling T. S. Eliot, Susan is a banker by day and a freelance writer by night. One of her many passions is exploring the world around her — both literally and figuratively. She enjoys asking questions through her creative writing on Typescript and reflecting on her personal experiences on twenty(or)something. She loves history, technology, and culture, and is convinced that dogs equal happiness.
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