Sunday, September 29, 2013

Things left undone

Today was a big day for Dorcas Terrell, also known as Dorky Dog, my beloved monster dog, Houdini Dog, and Attila the Lab, mess maker, destroyer of hoses and hammocks.   I took her to church for St. Francis's day.   Notice the heavenly light bathing her behind in my car, Little Wednesday's car seat and the WD 40 in the floor board.  Chariot was VERY well tricked out.   After I tricked her into staying in the house while the other two chased a squirrel, I began the process of getting her out the door.   The harness is too small, the regular collar she'd just twist out of...alas, the "choke" or training collar was our only viable option for 45 minutes of 'out in public time'.    
I very quickly figured out why all the other people with big dogs stand all the time and position themselves behind all the chairs.  She nearly sent a tiny dog into a seizure by sticking her nose under the puppy's owner's arm for attention.   I decided it would be better to remove Dorky from the situation, since she has no idea that she and the micro dog are not equals in battle.  (RJ jumps her all the time, but he's still twice the size of the micro dog.  Hmmmm)

Pretty good "seats" for a dorky dog
I should mention that we do the annual blessing of the critters in honor of St. Francis, a man frequently admired and seldom imitated.  Seldom imitated because it would be really freaking hard to live like that.   Really.  Seriously.   The guy was hardcore. Nekid in the court when he denied his father hardcore.     Incidentally, also the only case of stigmata I'm not willing to write off as hysteria or drama queenitis with a touch of cutter.
I should back up a bit.  Yesterday I had an interesting experience.   We had a benefit breakfast for a friend of mine who needs a liver transplant.  (Click on the link and donate generously if you can.)  I got there early and we went out on the lawn to see if the lights were on in the tiny Eiffel tower we had out front.  (We were serving crepes and it was delicious.  Hence "French cafĂ©" theme.)   There was a homeless man camped out on the church's front porch.  He apologized for being there.  Said he didn't know we were having an event that morning and promised to clear out when it quit raining.  I told him not to worry, he wasn't hurting anything.  I didn't want him going back out in the rain.  It was 7am and it was raining hard.  Cats, dogs, emus hard.   It was chilly in a pleasant way, but man was it wet.  
We turned the lights on and cheered at our pretty little tower in the morning light and went back inside.  I started making coffee--not so much for the guests as of yet as the cooks.   7 am is early on Saturday morning.   I decided to take him a cup of coffee.  He thanks me and I lock myself out of the building.  Nice.  I start pounding on the door trying to get someone's attention.  (Cats, dogs and emus, remember?) 
It occurred to me later and more so during the sermon this morning that I didn't get his name.  I mentioned we were making breakfast and I brought him coffee but no crepes.   In fairness, they weren't my crepes, but come on.  I didn't engage the guy except in passing.   I was being nice but not as nice as I should have been.   I was out there for a few minutes and I didn't speak to him much at all.  Our sexton, upon arriving and finding the place occupied, offered to run him off and I did keep him from doing that. 
Yes, I know the homeless folks who camp on our porch have shit on our porch before.  I know they leave trash and worse behind.   I realize this.  It's really frustrating and the day I stepped in it part of me wanted to smear the poo on the person who left it there.  How is it though that the first thought going through "our" heads at hearing there is a homeless man still on the porch at 7 am in the middle of the rainstorm is to run him off?
I know how bored I get just sitting in a waiting room at a doctor's office with no cell phone.  I can't imagine how bored and lonely that man must be.  Young woman offers you a cup of coffee but doesn't engage you in any real conversation.   I can't imagine.  The isolation must be devastating.  I don't know what to do to make it better. 
I just know the way it is now is bullshit. 

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