I haven't given up, not precisely, but the search has worn me down
considerably and made me a tad cynical. It's too effortless and comfortable to
fall in love when you're young and surrounded by magic ,too trying and time
consuming when you're old and have become set in your ways. All the loves of my
life have come and gone - passing through like the seasons, always on the way
to changing - leaving me to wonder if any were real.
With every beginning, at least so I told myself, I was absolutely,
positively, rock solid sure I was on good ground, that such feelings couldn't
be anything but love. With each ending, I was equally certain that there would
be another chance - mistakes are the best teaching tools, after all, and I was
resilient, optimistic, and overflowing with dreams. We are meant to be paired,
I told myself, meant to be in tandem and headed in the same direction, designed
to search and find a soulmate. After two marriages/divorces - some might say
failures - the perfect match was proving annoyingly elusive but I kept faith
with the dream and the idea of a forever love, stubbornly refusing to let go.
In the end, I returned to the first and possibly only genuine love
I'd ever known - my feelings for animals had been a constant since I first laid
eyes on a cardboard box of puppies and been told to choose. Here I knew where I
stood, here I was needed and loved without conditions, here I would have given
my life to protect another small one. There was no wondering, no second
thoughts, no fear for the future. Whether I'm holding a dog or a cat or a
chinchilla, nursing a baby raccoon back to health and independence or sitting
by the cage of a majestic white tiger, I know what it is to love and it's not
what I had always believed - it's far simpler and straightforward and was
always within me, right on the surface and waiting for me to find it. I just
had to get past the white knights and other expectations.
Love is a warmth that pours outward
from the soul, a mysterious and hard to define emotion, far too often confused
with other more superficial feelings. I discovered it the instant my daddy
placed a sleepy, warm and sweet smelling black and tan daschound puppy in my
arms. I was too young to recognize a life altering moment, too much of a child
to realize that destiny had just brushed by me, too innocent to comprehend that
love doesn't always stand on two feet. I still expected the same feeling to one
day overcome me in human form, to find the man I was meant for and live the
story book ending. When it's all said and done, a part of me still does - but
it's a small part, a whisper, really, and it goes suddenly silent the moment I
pick up an animal. It's a non-traditional view of love, I know and I suppose
there are people who might think me odd, if they are charitable or delusional,
if they are not. But what I feel for animals is something so fundamental, so
deeply rooted and just plain right, that I suspect I will never really feel it
with a partner. I knew it the moment the tiny daschound pup snuggled into my
neck, as surely as I've ever known anything since. There is, between me and my
animals, absolute trust, unconditional love, tolerance and patience. We have
the same needs - food, shelter, acceptance, security, the occasional afternoon
nap, and the same goals, to live quietly and spend our time well. Unorthodox,
perhaps, but genuine love isn't limited or confined or always inside the lines
like a coloring book. When I began to understand that love comes in all shapes
and sizes, that it can't be boxed in or assigned like a part in a play, that it
can't be fabricated or manufactured, I also began to understand myself on a
different level. The simplest truths are often hidden in plain sight and here
was one: In the event of fire or flood or other natural disaster, my husbands
were on their own, my first and only priority would be the lives of my animals. Not surprisingly, this revelation wasn't
received with much grace but rather with disbelief and surprise, both of which
turned to resentment. Here's another: The safety and well being of my animals
mattered more to me than either of my marriages - the shock of this awareness
was almost heart stopping and forced me to reexamine my motives and my very
purpose - except that I had known it all along.
I've learned a few things about love since then. In all its forms,
whether between consenting adults, parent and child, siblings or best friends,
even between a little girl and her first puppy, it's a rare gift. Some of us
search for it, some stumble over it, some do without. But my heart has known it
all my life, just not as most of us expect. So if someone does invent love
recognition software, I'll get in line, cross my fingers, pay my two dollars
and let the fates do as they will.
Meanwhile, there's no need to look for love. Thanks to a cardboard
box of puppies at the age of five and a wiggly, tiny bundle of soft fur with
big brown eyes, I found it early and it's still everywhere I look. Traditional
or not, I'm surrounded and my heart is full.
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