This is a post I’ve had in draft form for almost a year unsure of how to finish it and tell Honey Bear’s story. Hopefully, you enjoy this version that has become my attempt at a story to remind us of what’s most important. Being an engineer hasn’t helped my creative writing skills, but here goes nothing.
Honey Bear’s Story
Out of the van jumped a dirty and matted dog that was very different from how she had been described. This was not a 25 pound Shiba Inu. No, the blue spots on the tongue and bushy tail gave her away as a Chow Chow mix that was more like 50 pounds. We had driven over two hours from home for this? This…this….perfect dog that was so much better than the mis-advertised one could have been.
Sure, Honey Bear was homeless, dirty, and matted. She had been abused and abandoned somewhere in the mountains a few weeks earlier. And she was incredibly shy and scared of anything new simply based on the terrible experiences she had been made to suffer through. We later found out that someone had damaged one of her eyes. She had been through a lot in her early years, but those are usually the characters that end up surprising us with unwavering love.
On the way home, we stopped for gas and to take Honey Bear for a walk. Being so scared, she had no intentions of walking around. Instead, she darted under the truck and would not budge. After filling up and trying to coax her out with food, she still would not move. It took me crawling under the truck and dragging her out to finally get back on the road. She was not a happy camper for the rest of the way home.
Her first few days at home were more of the same – scared and unsure of her new environment. She now had a comfortable house to live in with food and water. We don’t know how long she had been homeless and we could only guess at how awful her previous owners had treated her because she was not going to get attached to us…yet. The key word being “yet”.
For several days, I had to feed her by hand in the mornings. Otherwise she wouldn’t eat. We made sure to keep her next to us and show her love throughout the day. Over the next several weeks, she became comfortable with us and settled in as our family dog.
It seems like a happy story of a dog that had nothing, but found a family to give her everything she needed. In reality though, Honey Bear was the one giving us everything. Even though she had gone through more bad experiences in her first years than any animal should, she still had a heart that loved in abundance.
Of everything in the world, all she ever wanted was a loving family, shelter, and food. No toys, no special bed, no special anything. She was content having her family and a place to call home. If there was a glass door to look through, that was a bonus.
When my wife or I would come home, Honey Bear would “dig in”. It’s the only time she ever asked for anything and she was simply asking for love. She would push her head into your lap and wait for you to scratch behind her ears or rub her head. Stop too early, and she’d dig right back in to get her fill of love.
Now that I think about it, Honey Bear did have a couple of splurges. She loved fresh snow in the backyard, especially when it was deep enough to run and dip her face into it. And then there were the french fries. Remember when she wouldn’t take a fry on the initial car ride home? Well, she got over not accepting french fries in a hurry thanks to my wife. Honey Bear would get her treat or three anytime there were french fries in the house.
I miss my Honey Bear, but we were so lucky to have her teach us about unconditional love and being content with the simple things in life. As long as there is shelter, family, and food, we have everything we need.
As a new year starts, I’m happy to strive to live more like a homeless blue tongued Chow Chow who only needed the simplest of things. Let’s call them the Honey Bear necessities, yeah man!
