I just watched this video. It came to me as a forward in my email to which, once viewed, I promptly forwarded on. The message is amazingly inspirational. The story is heart-breaking and heart-warming all at the same timeโ€ฆ and yesโ€ฆ I was bawling my eyes out.

I was keeping it together fairly good until they explained the X-ray and thenโ€ฆ

I lost it.

I was watching the rest of the video through blurry tear-filled eyes. When the turn-around began and I found my smile, I found a chuckle, then a deep-bellied laugh. I realized I was still crying. And yet, I was smiling.

It was a feel good moment.

But even after the video was over and I closed the window and pressed send on my email and got up for more coffee, I found my eyes whelping up with tears again thinking back to that moment my heart literally broke for this poor little dog.ย  And it started me wonderingโ€ฆ what is it about this dog I will never meet, that made me so incredibly sad and so completely connected to it, that I still canโ€™t get her out of my head?

Was it the fact that she looked like a dog I once had? Was it because I love dogs so much that I was immediately endeared towards her? No.

She was abandoned, starved, a broken back and couldnโ€™t move, stranded on a highway road side. How did she get that way? Was she thrown out of a car by someone who didnโ€™t care? Was her back broken at that moment or did they do it to her before? I could have been furious at the faceless person who could have done this to herโ€ฆ but I wasnโ€™t crying for that.

Was it the wonderful generous acts that woman did in stopping her car that morning? A highway road side of cars speeding by with windows closed, radios turned up, cell phones turned on. It truly was a wonderful act but I wasnโ€™t crying about that.

Was it the pain that poor dog was in? A broken back, starvingโ€ฆ it should have been, it was as close to a valid reason as any of the othersโ€ฆ but again, it wasnโ€™t why I was still crying for this dog.

It was because she couldnโ€™t ask for help.
It was because she couldnโ€™t tell anyone how much pain she was in.
It was because even if they would have seen herโ€ฆ they probably would have kept driving.
It was because if she would have been heard crying, howlingโ€ฆ they would have told her to shut-up because they couldnโ€™t understand WHY she was crying.
Itโ€™s because we can not be told by the animals in our lives what is going on with them, in their own words. We donโ€™t know if they are hurting or in painโ€ฆ we may be able to see it with our own pets when we finally come home from work, and finish our chores, and actually pay attention to them after TV.ย  But they canโ€™t walk up to us and say, โ€œHey Joe, I pulled a muscle in my hind leg, can you get me a warm compress for it?โ€

They are always so happy to see us, so happy to be in our presence that they wag their tails and look up to us with adoring eyes and desire so much to just be with us, that they will ignore any ailments they have just to be near us.ย  We say to them โ€œHow you doinโ€™ buddy?โ€ and they wag their tail, they donโ€™t say anything. Maybe, if we are attuned to them, weโ€™ll notice their ears down when they think we arenโ€™t looking, but with our busy lives we may miss it.

Yet that wasnโ€™t even why I was cryingโ€ฆ The above about our own pets doesnโ€™t count because we have a vested interest in their health and safety, they are our familyโ€ฆ I was crying because Daisy belonged to no one. She was alone. She was hurt and alone in a world too busy for her, surrounded by people who couldnโ€™t hear her or see her or understand if she even did cry out.

It was a miracle that woman found her and noticed and cared enough to find the help and raise the money and take Daisy in. And we all say awe and smile at the saved soul of a dogโ€ฆ but how many of those heart-warming stories exist for other humans? Not children, Iโ€™ll give them a pass. Iโ€™m talking about older adults, people the rest of the world expects to be able to take care of themselves. People whom, if in need of help, can ask in their native tongueโ€ฆ but how many do?

We see them on the street with cardboard signs, yet we think to ourselves, why canโ€™t they get up and work. We hear about them on the news and think, thatโ€™s sad, but itโ€™s on the news, others will help. We hear about it in our community but assume those that hear will do something so we donโ€™t need to. We think about it for a minute, an hour, but hardly a day and never a week โ€“ and a month later weโ€™ve completely forgotten, even though their story may still very much continue on.

We live in a society that ignores the cries of the needy, in the same way we donโ€™t understand the pleas of the injured animal. Our needy may speak to us in our native language, may articulate themselves like the best scholar and yet we still donโ€™t hear them โ€“ because if we truly heard, we would have helped.

Iโ€™ll tell you this much. When I see a true โ€“ human interest story on the news (which is rare) it helps me realize as human beings we are capable of more than war and hate and crime. We are inundated by stories of evil-doers, adulterers, murderers, thieves and worseโ€ฆ and they are out thereโ€ฆ but we all, as a civilization, need to hear more stories of the above and it would help us, as a society, hear them about our own kind too. We need to get used to seeing, hearing and doing good for others. It needs to become second nature again.

The hustle and bustle of the big city, everyone out for themselvesโ€ฆ I donโ€™t know when it happened, but it needs to change. We need to focus on our neighbors moreโ€ฆ on the people who pour our coffeeโ€ฆ on the waitresses that bring our foodโ€ฆ on the secretary that collates our copiesโ€ฆ on the people who drive the busesโ€ฆ on the guy who mows our yardsโ€ฆ on the person behind the registerโ€ฆ on the mother on the side of the roadโ€ฆ on the homeless man holding the signโ€ฆ on the person pushing the cartโ€ฆ on the tattered coat, on the tattered soul, in the scary part of town, being forgotten, not being heard, crying, cowering, in pain, with a broken heart, in a world that has forgotten him.

Lord, help him to find the person who will stop their drive to work, who will take him into their heart and find the help for him so he can be healed and live and run like the windโ€ฆ just like little Daisy