Dad was talking to an old friend who recently returned from a business trip to China; she had taken the time to visit the Great Wall, and commented on both how small and at the same time, how large inside, it made her feel. Dad took that as how “connected” it made her feel to something larger than herself.
I get it; when dad and I are travelling through the vastness of the Rockies, the size of the mountains can be intimidating when viewed from the valleys, but exhilirating when experienced from the apex. Same mountain, different perspective, but all part of the same journey. Like the mountains, I can view the obstacles of life as a threat, or as the very source of my strength.
And although I may be physically small in the overall picture, I am ultimately as large as that from which I draw my strength.
When I was in my crate and the situation looked hopeless, it would have been easy to begin that slide into the Valley of Depression, then Despair, then Defeat, then Death; nobody knows I’m out here, or more importantly, no one cares.
Why even go on?
Well, why not?
Because there IS always hope, and there is always someone out there who cares, someone to show up out of nowhere and help someone else out of their crate. But sometimes that person needs to be you; in service to others can lie your own path out of the Valley.
Another friend of the Casa is currently facing their own long uphill battle to recovery, and I want them to know that, wherever they are at on their path, they have the support of the Charlie Bravo family. And if this description happens to fit you, the support applies to you as well; conservative or liberal, black or blue, male or female, dog or cat, Honda or Harley, we’re all in this together, brought together by the improbable story of a scraggly black dog in a box.
We be of one blood, ye and I.