Hope's Story
The first act of fate was the fact that we were there, at the right time in the right place to see her. I was listening to music and looking out my window in a trance and it took me a moment to process the quick flash of a tiny brown puppy running along our neighbor’s block. I called out to my mom, who stopped the car 2 blocks from our house and turned around to follow the dog. We followed her into the labyrinth of houses and watched her closely. I saw her run into the open gate of a family’s house, her tiny tail wagging like a helicopter as she cautiously approached them, eyes hopeful and adoring, only to be shooed back out, tail between her legs. Undeterred, she runs up to a local man on the street, tummy low, puppy dog eyes* benevolent, even as he walks away. The second act of fate was the fact that we had a bag of puppy food in our car from said visit to the vet because, on a whim, we had decided to try and mix it with our dog Daisy’s food to see if she would eat better. Taking the bag of food in my hand, I cautiously stepped out of the car with Daisy’s barking at my back. By then the puppy had crossed the street, having just been rejected by the man, and I crouched down and called her over to me, ripping the bag loose and setting some kibble on the floor before slowly moving away. I probably should have been apprehensive but I’m not, I’m filled with a strange sense of peace as I watch her run across the street, run past the food and straight into my arms. Her tiny tail is wagging and she flops onto the floor and exposes her soft pink belly and I oblige her, picking the food up in my hand to feed her while I caress her. She looked to be around 4/5 months old and had a dusty brown coat (which I later found out has a more vibrant copper sheen after we washed all the grime off her) As I’m crouching there fussing over her, I noticed that one of her eyes is not quite right… not quite normal… not quite whole. The eye was injured, though I saw no blood or any sign of a scar, it was just not… right. Perhaps it was a dog or a cat or perhaps it was a child throwing a rock at a tiny defenseless puppy all alone. And though I knew we couldn’t possibly keep another dog in our house, I knew I also couldn’t possibly leave her here in the oppressive May heat, to die of infection or starvation or anything else. I talked to my mom, and then I turned and called out to the puppy to follow me home.
She followed me all the way back, and that's when I knew what her name would be. It was a name for the fate that had put us together and the hope that everything would be ok. It was the hope that I saw in her eye as she looked up at all those strangers on the street and asked them to take her home. The same hope that I saw in her eye when she ran into my arms in the dark street.
A hope for her to be safe and cherished,
A hope that she would be brave and strong
A hope that everything would be okay.
A hope for her to finally, one day, be home.
So I named her Hope, a hope for Hope. And that's where this story begins.
She’s still here, a year later. Our little foster dog with an unbreakable spirit. I think that she came along at the exact right moment that my mother needed her to have that little spark. In the same way that Daisy is my soulmate, I feel like my mother and Hope are soulmates because they are both the biggest fighters I’ve ever met.
She is truly an incredible foster dog and supporting her all this time has been quite spectacular. I’ve seen her come out of her shell from a nervous little puppy to an energetic and happy ball of joy, I’ve seen her ups and downs and every time in between. I still remember how painful the inoculation surgery was for her (when we had to remove the injured eye to prevent it from getting infected), but like I said, she is the fiercest fighter I’ve ever met and on the second day post surgery she started trying to zoom around and play (much to our absolute horror since we needed to keep her resting).
I believe that there is someone, somewhere out there that is looking for hope and love and somehow their spirits will connect in fate in the same way that I found her all those months ago. I haven’t stopped searching for that special soul, and I won’t stop searching until I do. Our little pirate kangaroo may have only one eye, but she has a way of seeing straight into our hearts.
