Redemption Blog

We all have things we would’ve liked to have done differently.  So when the rare opportunity to redeem ourselves comes along, it seems perfectly natural to react quickly and irrationally. 

Such was my thought last Saturday, as I made a Jason Bourne-style move with my car into my driveway, frantically yanking bags into my house and loudly calling for Joe.

“JOETHERE’SADOGWENEEDTOHELPITSADOGWEGOTTAGORIGHTNOW!”

Allow me to explain.

A while back I told a story about when Joe and I were still living in Maryland and how we found a dog wandering the streets outside our house late one night.  We tried to call the authorities and looked around for its’ owner, but neither effort proved fruitful.  Without knowing how it would react to our then-new dog, Georgia, and with no shelter open that late at night, we had no choice but to pass the dog along to a stranger that happened to walk by and said they'd take it. 

I remember how sick I felt in the pit of my stomach that night, angry at myself that I didn’t do more to help this poor lost dog.  Joe always tried to console me, assuring me that the dog probably did find a good home.  But I always told myself that if every such a chance to be a hero to a little furry friend came my was again, I’d do something about it.

Cut back to last Saturday.

I was on my way home after running some errands when I turned a corner and noticed a pudgy little Pug trotting along the sidewalk.  By the time my brain processed that there was no owner attached to the dog, I was already well passed it and just saw it out of my rear-view mirror.  The dog was headed straight for the highway and as I gasped with fear, I realized that my moment had come.  At long last, I was going to help this dog and redeem myself! 

Right after I dropped off these groceries, I thought.

I raced to my house, threw my car in park, and burst through the front door, hollering for Joe.  I expected him to stop me, to calm me down and say not to worry about it, but much to my surprise he simply said, “Ok, let’s go.”

I was so excited and anxious, I forgot all about my groceries.  

Well, almost.  

Jason Bourne may have survived colossal car chases and leaping across buidlings, but I don’t think even he could survive salmonella or trichinosis.  So I tossed my cold groceries in the fridge before joining Joe.

As were leaving, I felt compelled to grab Georgia’s blanket just in case the dog was going to need to be wrapped in something. 

You know, like a flood victim.

What can I say?  I was determined to live out this hero-fantasy to the max.

I drove while Joe scanned the roads looking for the rogue Pug, all the while assuring me once again that this dog would be fine.  I wasn’t totally listening.  I was determined to help this dog.  I would not leave another poor helpless dog out in the wild, even if the “wild” was only “Lakewood Ranch”.

We drove around for a little while longer, turning down side streets and stopping at cul-de-sacs, but never spotting the little brown Pug.  

My heart sank.  I failed again.

Joe patted my shoulder.

“He’s probably OK.  The owner might’ve caught up with him and taken him home already,” he said, consoling me.  “At least we know he didn’t get hit by a car on the highway.  We would’ve seen him smashed up on the side of the road,” Joe said warmly as he rubbed my back.  I shot him an angry look, but felt too defeated to say anything as we drove home.

I walked back into the house and replaced Georgia’s blanket on the couch, disappointed I didn’t get the chance to envelope a frightened dog in a comforting embrace.  Meanwhile Georgia came running up to greet us and I was sad I didn’t have a new friendly little buddy for her to play with.  I gave her a big hug and wandered back into the kitchen.

While I remembered to put the perishable groceries away, I forgot all about the fast-food I bought for me and Joe.  We sat down at the table, but I couldn’t eat.  I was still so mad at myself.  I should’ve just stopped the car the instant I saw that dog, I thought, I should’ve flagged someone down.

As I sat there staring at my nearly cold McNuggets, thinking of all the things I could’ve or should’ve done, Joe was almost through eating.

“Thank you for picking up some food for us, honey.  You know, this is maybe the first time you remembered to get us both something to eat while you were out.  Usually, you forget to ask me if I want anything, ha ha,” Joe said good-naturedly.

Suddenly, a revelation dawned on me.

“Yes!  I DID remember.  You’re right.  Normally I always just assume you ate already or I won’t be home in time.  But I remembered this time.  I did it!  I redeemed myself!” 

I sat there, brightened by the fact that I did undo a wrong I did.  I remembered someone else’s needs.  I took care of someone.  I provided comfort to someone.  It didn’t make up for not helping that dog.  I will always be on the lookout for another chance like that.  

But at least in this one small instance, this underdog redeemed herself.