My Yearning is a Wistful Moment

“The insanity,” I was walking fast and thinking even faster. I walked into the past through a door which emotional pain had locked a long time ago. Now, I swung that door wide open. I had this insane neighbor who had nothing better to do than focus on what was going on in my business. Oh, wow where is my mind going?

My therapist kept asking me to breath. She said for me to walk her through my past experiences slowly. She said: "I want to learn how I can help you to heal your trauma."

I am swerving between the present, the past and the future. Hold up here I go. I am the owner of a Pit Bull facility. Pit Bulls in session fueled by pure dog loving passion.

I enjoy my work, and I feel at peace when I am surrounded by animals. You might read this and ask: “Why Pit Bulls?” And I will tell you that Pits are the best, most loving and loyal dogs. The stories about Pits told on television aka - "tell a vision," - are someone's perception of a partly observed and partly retold event.

The question the audience has to ask is if a news reporter is reflecting, reporting or believing. Is it a fact, the reporter's vision or is there an agenda? Is it displayed on the screen as a tool for awakening and learning or is it sold for distraction? I hope you sniffing what I am scratching dear reader.

Looking back, I do not remember exactly how it all began. "Memory is tricky," I hear myself say. "I can remember parts of how I decided to rescue Pits and open a dog business. I remember parts of my arts. Every Pit Bull I meet today holds a piece of memory that I carry within. Time once lost is never reclaimed or was it that I never aimed right?"

I drift off into the abyss and it is silent. I am standing on the shore of my mind. Looking out to the horizon, I see a field of grass. I see dogs running around. I see lots of people who seem to smile but they are sad. Their eyes are watery filling the ocean between my shore and the field of dogs. My eyes zoom in. I am willing to bridge the distance with a road paved with memories.

My ex-husband and I were at the La Brea Tar Pits, located in West Los Angeles, the day was leading up to my decision to work with Pit Bulls. West LA/Hollywood is known to be a place for dog lovers of all breeds. There is hardly an apartment complex in which people are not allowed to have companion animals. Banks, stores and cafes have water bowls for dogs outside and inside their businesses. In Weho, people take their dogs everywhere if possible.

That day, they had dog rescues set up, at La Brea Tar Pits. My ex and I were walking around between the rescues, when I was approached by a woman who said: “I need help with an amazing dog she really needs a foster home.” The women seemed exited waving her hands around for us to follow her.

Looking at the lady I said: “Well I cannot foster but I can help you find a foster home for the pup.” The look on the woman’s face was pleating for help. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she wrinkled her forehead and squeezed her eyebrows together.

“So, what’s the story of the pup. What is going on?” I inquired.

“Well,” she said, pulling me by my arm forcing me to walk with her, “it’s the sweetest Pit you ever meet but her owner moved away and was not able to take her. She was adopted out by us to that owner three years ago. Our clients are advised that as a courtesy, we always take our dogs back if need be.”

"Oh, I understand that is very nice of you and must make the adopter feel that the dog is loved and save," I told the woman. My ex-husband did not want to engage and said that he wanted to get coffee. "I will be right back or meet you at the car," he said to us and left. I followed the woman to meet the dog.

We approached her rescue organization's tent, and the woman said pointing at one of many dogs: "This is Lucy," and with one look the Pit had my soul. I fell head over heels in love. Lucy was a white and black Pit mix. Sweet as can be and happy hyper. She jumped and licked and pushed me with her nose.

“She got me,” I thought.

From that day forward I worked tirelessly to put Lucy into a great home. It was not an easy task. However, after three months we succeeded. Lucy found a fabulous forever home. Bittersweet moments followed. I experienced the taste of saying goodbye and the hope of a new beginning for Lucy. My smile was traced with salt. I laughed but the sound was wrapped in silence. In the three months I worked with Lucy, I had met many rescue organization owners and their dogs. I interviewed possible adopters and performed home checks. I focused on the task ahead and savored my pain over having to give Lucy to someone to love. However, this was not about me.

Thinking back, it was not difficult for me because I had the heart, patience, passion and dedication. It was lots of thought process and work but worth it. When you do what you like most it's not work it's play. The start was sweet, and I felt ease in the unknown. My hope was the hunter the unknown the chased.

In the back of my mind was Lucy's adopter's question. It had so much weight and was lingering beneath the surface. The man asked me: "What would you do for work if you would not get paid for it?" My answer was: “Work with animals., with Pit Bulls. My favorite activity is to be in nature and to spend time with animals and especially dogs."

In my teenage years I had a Doberman Pinscher, and I loved her dearly. She got old and while I was with my first boyfriend on vacation his mom had to let her go over the Rainbow bridge aka euthanize her. Anja was her name. She was the sweetest and most spoiled dog on earth.

My first boyfriend’s mom spoiled Anja, and I know that she had to make that decision. It was heart breaking when we returned from vacation. I looked for Anja, but she was gone, like a mist that forgets to cling to the morning. All her bowls were gone, and the couch was empty. Her doggy scent still lived in the folds of the cover on the couch. A shadow remained. I was grateful to have known her to have touched her fur. I kept the cover unwashed for months.

It is one of my personality traits that I hang on to animals. For me it's hard to let go. I am thinking about Anja still all these years later. She lives in my morning prayers. I miss her face, and I miss her crazy jumping around and taking over “her” couch to sleep comfortably. Her quiet glance, soft sigh and her heart resting on my knees.

Years later, while living in Hollywood I had a Doberman with my ex-husband. His name was Louie Einstein. He was fabulous. So funny and active. Louie was spoiled. Louie took over the side of my bed while I would snuggle up on his dog bed. When I opened my Pit Bull business my husband and I got a divorce. He took Louie. He loved Louie and Louie loved my ex. I prayed that he would take great care of him. I always wished my ex would have given like Louie, asking for nothing and giving without promise.

Looking back now there were so many learning lessons which I am grateful for today. I moved too fast opening my dog business. I remember thinking: "Louie was meant to stay with me forever." But forever is a very long time! I am certain it was better for Louie to be with my ex. All I can say is that I did the best I could at that point.

The business went fabulously, and I was in heaven working with dogs. My ex-husband was miserable and did all he could to intervene in my happiness. He blamed my dog business for our divorce. In all reality I never wanted to marry him. After we filed for divorce, he engaged with the crazy neighbor next to my business. They both plotted to make my life difficult and make my business fail.

Misery loves company is a cliché which applies. This lady had no work, no husband and was a drug addict. She came to my fence and took pictures of me working with the dogs. She called the police and made false claims with the city department.

Years later I found out that my ex-husband had something to do with it and that he paid her to lie. The situation became extremely stressful and my way of dealing with extreme stress, drinking, did not help the situation. Besides working tirelessly from four in the morning until eleven at night was not contusive to stress release either. I had to somehow deal with the insanity of the neighbor.

Today, knowing what I learned in the years to come, I would take a step back and make a completely different decision. Back then, I began to drink more and more to numb the anger and stress. I know now that drinking was a bad idea. However, it took my stress at least temporarily.

After five months of battling the neighbor, she was asked, by the city officials to move and leave the neighbors, especially me, alone. At that point I was mentally, emotionally and physically so exhausted that I gave up. I called the rescue organizations and asked them to pick up all the dogs. I sold the cages and dog supplies and told the leaser of the Warehouse that I am moving. My lease was at it's end anyway. I had two months to go.

Many years later, fifteen years to be exact, it is still a bittersweet feeling and thought. I miss all the pups, and I miss being in nature and around dogs all day long. The loss of the Pit Bull business was heart wrenching. For some years I was not coping well. I kept drinking the pain away. Then I ended up recovering and learned to let go.

Today, I pray daily for all the pups and for all rescues. I pray for dog businesses and for all deceased dogs. I live peacefully with my small dog and enjoy every moment we have. I am grateful to be where I am at this point. Pit Bulls are my style, but my little dog Doc is my favorite.

Gratitude for the present is the way out of romanticizing the past. Nevertheless, it does not mean that I do not have the yearning to have the dog business back. At this point in my life, it has become a dream of the past. Sometimes a wistful wish to once again be surrounded by dogs, Pit Bulls, all day long. Looking at my little pup, who I love more than anything, it would be extremely difficult and perhaps impossible to obtain.

I am surrounded by animal lovers at home and at work. Nathan, one of my friends rescued the most amazing Pit Bull. His name is Fenrir. Nathan spoils FenFen, yea that's his nickname. Thank the universe, I am no longer emotionally paralyzed and delusionally burdened that I must rescue Pit Bulls.

The world went quiet when the growls and barks disappeared. I held their leashes but not their souls. The furies have left but not the silence and now the silence is louder than the actual barks years ago.

My yearning for the Pit Bulls in my business is a wistful moment, a breath caught between what was and what never was meant to be. Thinking about yearning. In these thinking, moments are where the yearning lives, in a pause in the breath of time. It lies between words unspoken and glances of what could have been. The moments pass and the longing lingers, not for what was but for what could have been.

And though I never found what I was chasing, I found myself walking. I am still walking in my mind taking slow steps through old moments. I crack the door to dusty moments wide open only to shut it again. I never throw away the key. In recovery are the memories which sleep and then awaken when the time is right. I think about the paws, the fury bodies and the barks. I still smell the ifs and long-lost maybes. The corners of my mind hold versions of dogs I've almost forgotten. Hold on, not quite.

The dogs are all with me always. They are where my thoughts drift when the world goes still. Somewhere in the labyrinth of my mind there is the future of a Pit Bull Business in the right location. I have not given up hope.

I hear my therapist calling my name: "Cee, wake up. It's ok. Cry it cleanses your soul. Here is a tissue. Look at me. It's alright dear." I look through the stream of salty tears at my therapist and mumble.: "I miss them I miss them so much. Hope keeps my dream alive."

Hope is ubiquitous. It is the flame which refuses to go out even when winds rage loud. Hope is in the crack of concrete where green still grows. Hope is a will more than a wish. From our dreams and wishes we weave a garment of future success.

My fast steps of insanity slow to a trod. My mind has slowed, and I reflect. "Clarity it is clarity which I needed," I think and keep walking. My reflection turned into introspection and surfaced my connection with the divine. My wistful wish is growing, like Ivy, into a future endeavor hanging onto the walls of my mind. "Pit Bulls," I say, and keep on walking.