the heart, and thank you bets

my friend has a "signature" at the bottom of all her emails: "You can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals." (Immanuel Kant). so true. today, however, i must admit, i had hateful thoughts in the direction of my neighbors huge, untamed, very aggressive German Shepard. the neighbor himself is a little "off" and last year appeared in Wegman's with a Russian speaking woman/girl - his new wife. okay, live and let live. then he got this dog. backwards now: i've been on an incredible creative streak....spending 18-plus hours a day working on a piece that is just forming under my hand magically. the pieces seem to select themselves; the colors choose where they want to go. i feel like i am just the tool to place things here or there. the magic has returned. and even if just for this one expression of art...oh, how sweet and wonderful. how blessed i feel. how once-again alive. having gone through such a dry spell, i no longer take for granted the incredible feeling of creating. and it feels like the creation is creating itself. my shoulders ache. my back aches. my legs and feet numb from standing in 1 spot gluing this or painting that. kept going by caffeine, nicotine and adrenaline. my 3 favorite food groups. the beautiful day sent sinews of mossy breezes through my screen to tempt me though. and little dog was bored and restless, having played tag with herself and her shadow for long enough. so i took a break and we went for a walk, unable to resist or ignore her pointed sighs any longer. a new walk. a new path to keep her interested, and also to look for treasures to put in my assemblage piece. the sun warmed my back as we went trail to trail, then off the trail a bit. she leaped after frogs and bobbled her head watching a fat bumblebee. we found ourselves on the trail toward home, but also the path that leads past the scary dog's house. the dog was inside - i could hear the ruckus. the owner and his wife were working in the yard outside and he actually waved back at my hello. as we passed his house about 50 yards, i heard him yell the dog's name, and turned in time to see this huge streak of brown and black barreling at us. there was no time to even pick up my little girl. the dog was moving so fast, he actually barreled over us and went past before wheeling around and coming back. i was focused on my girl and the look in her eyes. i heard someone screaming and screaming and the neighbor trying to call his dog back. as the shepherd came back at us a 3rd time like a bull after a matador, i scooped my dog up and moved to the side. i didn't want to run, because the woman always falls in the scary movies. the dog went back to the house, but as we started moving away, he came back again. still the screaming, but no help. i was able to make it back to our house and into the safety of our fenced yard. no one had been bit, somehow. and then i realized - it was my own screams that i'd heard. the whole incident seemed like hour upon hour, but my neighbor 4 doors down had started over when she first heard me screaming and just got to my house when i went inside. those moments outside, i hated that dog, and if i had a stick in my hand, i admit i'd have used it. but i also felt bad that his owner didn't care enough about that magnificent animal to love him and teach him. i collapsed on the floor in tears, shaking and crying...i felt like i'd almost lost my girl. that would be patently unfair. my neighbor said the owner had finally caught the dog and was screaming at him outside. my friend has a job that most of us would like to think we'd do. but never would. she looks into the eyes of these animals that were born innocent and mallable, with hearts and feelings from a different plane of understanding. she takes them from owners that should themselves be in cages. how she does it everyday, i'll never know. why she does it, i understand completely. i know she must suffer as they do. for her heart, and her understanding is of the same plane of understanding. i'd send her flowers of appreciation everyday if i could. thank you for doing what i could never do. thank you, Bets. L.