Monday, March 16, 2009

Planes and Wheels

I have long maintained if we are open to it, the cosmos will supply us with the things we need. This belief has carried me through pretty well; since becoming involved in the Great Dane rescue, however, the gifts we have received from the cosmos have been tenfold as much as any two people deserve.

It was through the rescue that I found myself speaking on the phone to a complete stranger about two and a half years ago while trying to coordinate an adoption transport. My lines were crossed; this was not the person to whom I would be passing the transported dog. She was in Minnesota. I was in northeast Kansas. This conversation should not have taken place. But thanks to the cosmos, it did. And it planted a seed that took root enough so that when the same woman on the Minnesota end of the line found herself making a reverse-Dane train trek, we were called into action to intercede her.

The cosmos are sneaky that way. You find yourself in the parking lot of some random gas station, tears being shed all around, and it turns out those tears won’t be the last the three of you share. Those tears are watering laughter and adventures you haven’t even realized are taking shape.
From those tears, we have shared flaming desserts, melancholy restaurant hostesses, and indifferent waitstaff in San Francisco. We have had chance encounters in local airports, where we found her dragging around a sound system as carry-on luggage. We have connected over passing canine maladies and permanent characteristics. We have shared stories and pictures and videos, albeit hers are much more well-produced.

And this past weekend, our friend from the Dane exchange in the parking lot, Evonne, winged in from Minnesota. I know from first-hand observation, she has the ability to make every creature feel like he or she is the only one in the room, so a girl can’t be too surprised at the warm reception the kritters here at MisFit Farm gave her. We watched as the people at her workshop each blossomed and basked in the warmth of her energy. It was a marvelous weekend.

Putting her on a plane to return was so difficult, we almost didn’t make it to the gate on time. But rest assured, there will be stories to come of that adventure and many more.


Anonymous said...

Now that seriously warms my heart . . .


fredwrite said...

Damn you. I can't listen to music like that at this point in life.

I love you and long to put my arms around you.

I'd live much longer if I were a woman. I'm sure of it.

Anonymous said...

I am touched an honored to be part of any Misfit post.

If you could see me right now... you'd know I'm just sitting in my living room enjoying the heavy breathing from Nene here at my feet. But inside my head I can hear the frogs and the not so distant call of coyotes. The crunch of dried grasses under my feet, the hoof beats of a happy horse running the length of his paddock. An occasional chorus of canines join in with Mercy holding the constant beat, Thomas adding the bass, and Coffee waiting to drop the toy to add percussion for the big finish. I smell spring and the air dances on my cheeks instead the habitual SLAP a MN winter all too often provides. It's all there and mine whenever I need a fix. I sigh and count my blessings before I close the bubble and come back here to my living room where Nene still sleeps soundly. Such a gift.

Thank you.

I'm not sure what I did to deserve such wonderful people but know I'm fiercely loyal and you have my friendship for life.

Raise a glass!
Here's to Misfit Farm,
where it feels at home.