The 6 faithful readers of this blog might remember Masie. When I last reported on her, Masie was a scared, scarred refugee from a puppy mill, who had been adopted by some new and wonderful neighbors up the street. Life was looking up for Masie.
A couple of weeks ago, I spotted Masie running like mad towards her house with the lady of the house in pursuit. Masie was fast but our neighbor was gaining. Lord knows, I couldn't help.
About a week later, Masie was supervising our neighbor in some landscaping so I asked what happened. Masie had escaped during her owner's poop scoop and was heading home as fast as she could. Her early morning routine is a bathroom break outside with the instant reward of breakfast. Masie was not going to miss breakfast.
Lots of good news here. When Masie arrived, she was not house-broken and had some mobility issues from the infernal puppy mill. She has surmounted those challenges—she was running beautifully when I saw her. She and our neighbor obviously love and enjoy one another very much.
Sally saw Masie the other day and remarked that she's just as cute as I claimed. That she now radiates health is great, but those same fetching looks were what the puppy mill owners were trying to replicate in litter after litter of her puppies. In this vale of tears, someone is always willing to exploit what's good or lovely or restorative or healthy.
That's one reason we need organizations like Madison Audubon: to stop, to the extent we can, the exploitation of our natural world.
Back to hope. Masie symbolizes that for me and reminds me that hope requires hoper(s) on both sides of the hope transaction. In Masie's case our neighbors hoped for a wonderful dog and for Masie to respond to their love and care. I want to believe that Masie in that horrible kennel had the canine equivalent of hope for a better life. She had to have something like that to respond so well to her new life.
That's part of our job as Madison Audubon staff, volunteers, members, and friends. We have to hope and act on the hope that we can preserve, protect, and strengthen much of our natural world.
The natural world shares that hope. Think of what our bird friends are up to these days. What's more hopeful than nesting?
Canada Goose family. Photo by Victoria Pickering
That hope is often fulfilled, to our delight and to the relief of avian parents. The other day a trout fishing friend was showing me photos of a nesting pair of Canada Geese on one his favorite streams. Mine too and I had an update for him. I had fished that same stretch of stream a couple of days later and came across those same geese with 4 or 5 bright yellow goslings. I didn't get too close or linger (not respectful, and geese are formidable parents) but that provided a charge of hope and happiness.
Take care,
Topf Wells, Madison Audubon advocacy committee
