I just read an article about the dogs that searched for survivors after the collapse of the World Trade Center towers. They were brought in from all over the country and the world. They were flown in on airplanes, when no other airplanes were allowed to fly in the United States. Despite these brave dogs best efforts, they were unable to find any survivors. Apparently, after their shifts looking for survivors, they were listless, lifeless, not wanting to eat, unresponsive. These dogs were all depressed. They had all “failed” there missions, as there were no survivors to be found. That’s how focused they were on their job. Bandit was born on the 15 anniversary of this tragic day. He is a most amazing dog, very aware of my emotional state. He is something good that happened on the anniversary of that day. I also have a birthday on a heavy day, my birthday is August 6, which is the anniversary of the day the first atomic bomb was dropped, by my country. We can remember the tragedies that happened on these days, but it’s okay to also find the good things that happened on these days. I find it very fitting that my dog and I share birthdays with these very heavy events in our history. These creatures, that our ancestors first interacted with when they hung around outside their caves, smelling the meat they were cooking, have become integral to many of our personal and professional lives. For the most part, they just want to please us, and don’t ask for very much in return, but a nice walk, playing with a toy, a few meals a day, and some pets. My dogs often take turns sleeping at the head of my bed, which is pretty low to the ground. I often fall asleep with a hand on them, providing comfort to me, and maybe me to them. I am grateful for each and every dog I’ve been honored to share my home with. As well as friends dogs I’ve been close with. The giant poodles that lived next to my grandparents house, who I’d get to walk when my family visited. I have a hard time picturing a reality that I’m not sharing my life with a dog, or two
As a child it seemed that deaths of older family members always seemed to fall on the birthday of either one of our parents or on ours, and I think that at times we wished we could change the dates. I had not thought of that for years until the day I brought Tikva home on 5 June 2015 and realised that was the date of my husband's birthday. It would have been my his 86th birthday [he was only 45 when he died] and as I have always said that Pereg sent Tikva to me, I have thought, but never before said, that my husband, whose Hebrew name means shepherd, helped me look after her when she was so very young and helpless. Happy Birthday Bandit, with love from Tikva and from me. xx
Happy Birthday. There are only so many days in a year, so it is a given that something good and/or bad will have happened on someone's birthday. For me, the firebombing of Tokyo and resulting fires happened - killing 100,000 people. But, Alexander Graham Bell also made that first telephone call "Mr Watson, come here. I want to see you." While it's important to remember the terrible things (in the hope that they are NOT repeated), it is also important to remember the good things to - and all that comes of them. Had that first phone call not happened, we wouldn't be communicating on the internet today.
