HOBO
John was a HOBO Volunteer. He trained homeless Boxers (canines) to be "more adoptable" through obedience. You see, boxers are a curious breed. Most people don't realize that they will clear a four foot chain link fence because of an innate need to explore. According to John, they typically have problems hearing and are either born deaf or eventually go deaf, necessitating hand commands. The breed was actually used by the military before German Shepherds. Because they are extremely dedicated, the trainer becomes their "parent". Their downfall: because of loyalty, they suffer abandonment issues and have been known to starve themselves to death when given over to the new owner. Upon this discovery, the military switched over to German Shepherds, who can transfer that devotion over to their new handler.
Specific to certain breeds are certain dispositions, and people who don't understand dogs shouldn't own them. Australian Shepherds, for instance, are bred to herd sheep. So it is nothing short of cruel to contain them in a 4' x 9' pen.
The thought of being made "more adoptable" hit me on a personal level. As the story goes, when my parents went to pick me up, my four year old sister went to my cradle, pointed and said "this one is just my size". At full term, I was only four pounds. I wonder if God, Who knit me together in my mother's womb - made me "adoptable". Did He pre-train me for obedience? I tend to think not. My sister would probably agree that if anything, I was bent toward rebellion. I was more like the curious wanderer who couldn't get enough of the things withheld from me - always looking for that fence to jump. In fact, now that I think of it, I remember climbing a barbed wire fence at age 7. My foot slipped at the top and the barb embedded so deeply into my thigh that I could not lift myself off and my mother had to get me down and put me in a bath of Epsom Salt. That scar remains.
But I digress.
What happens when we are placed in surroundings contrary to our nature, when our hearts cry out for something more than the hand we were dealt? Many of us learn to wear the poker face until we have to place our hand on the table, revealing who we have been all along - much to the chagrin of the other players. We try to hide our hands all our lives and make the most of it, hoping we can fool enough people to win the game.
Wouldn't it be easier to go to the Creator and conform to whatever we were intended to be from the beginning? In other words, if the Potter intended us for the purpose of an ashtray rather than a vase, who can say to their maker "why did you make me like thus?" (Romans 9:20).
I think there's something to be said for that kind of contentment. I respect those who are happy to live out their purpose. The trick is to honestly seek and find it through a relationship with the Potter Himself.
As for me, I'm getting there!
Specific to certain breeds are certain dispositions, and people who don't understand dogs shouldn't own them. Australian Shepherds, for instance, are bred to herd sheep. So it is nothing short of cruel to contain them in a 4' x 9' pen.
The thought of being made "more adoptable" hit me on a personal level. As the story goes, when my parents went to pick me up, my four year old sister went to my cradle, pointed and said "this one is just my size". At full term, I was only four pounds. I wonder if God, Who knit me together in my mother's womb - made me "adoptable". Did He pre-train me for obedience? I tend to think not. My sister would probably agree that if anything, I was bent toward rebellion. I was more like the curious wanderer who couldn't get enough of the things withheld from me - always looking for that fence to jump. In fact, now that I think of it, I remember climbing a barbed wire fence at age 7. My foot slipped at the top and the barb embedded so deeply into my thigh that I could not lift myself off and my mother had to get me down and put me in a bath of Epsom Salt. That scar remains.
But I digress.
What happens when we are placed in surroundings contrary to our nature, when our hearts cry out for something more than the hand we were dealt? Many of us learn to wear the poker face until we have to place our hand on the table, revealing who we have been all along - much to the chagrin of the other players. We try to hide our hands all our lives and make the most of it, hoping we can fool enough people to win the game.
Wouldn't it be easier to go to the Creator and conform to whatever we were intended to be from the beginning? In other words, if the Potter intended us for the purpose of an ashtray rather than a vase, who can say to their maker "why did you make me like thus?" (Romans 9:20).
I think there's something to be said for that kind of contentment. I respect those who are happy to live out their purpose. The trick is to honestly seek and find it through a relationship with the Potter Himself.
As for me, I'm getting there!
The most difficult thing about the training of these beautiful babies is that they have lost heart. Have lost trust. Oh, they fake it really well. But the fact is, someone saw their cute little face as a puppy, took them home then realized, as they grew, that the laidback look does not match the energetic personality.
ReplyDeleteThe result is that, after awhile, the person looks at the dog and says, "you're just not good enough." Now the rejection. Those of us who have dealt with the rejection of someone we love, someone we are dedicated to, know just how devastating this is.
To feel like there is never going to be hope for you again. Never to be loved again. Never to just be good enough.
So, in training these animals, the hard part is not teaching the commands, both hands and voice, the hard part is getting them to trust you just enough to cooperate with you. To instill joy and hope in them so that they can believe there is a chance for them to be loved again.
-- John
I had forgotten that this story was written not long after Robin and I met and she learned about my work with HOBO Care.
DeleteIt wasn't until a neighbor recently adopted 2 boxers that I recalled this blog. It was my letting my neighbor know that unless she fully intended to keep the puppies for life, that it would be better to find them a new home. Otherwise, she risked these puppies committing "suicide" were she to give them up at a later time.
Upon learning my work with this amazing breed, my neighbor asked if I would be willing to provide training for both she and the puppies. How could I refuse? Two cute little babies whose company I would enjoy. Though it is important that their "mom" be a participant so that the loyalty they have for her remains in tact.
I love their cooperation and excitement at learning These babies have such great brains!
Though created for His pleasure, I love that my Father shares so readily so that joy is given to all who will partake.
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