Generosity

Most people know that my father passed last July. However, not everyone knows that his beloved dog, Cheyenne, was left without a home. She stayed with Christopher and I for about 8 months until my brother could take her. It turns out that he and his family are not dog people. Christopher and I could not take her back because she did not get along with the neighbor dog. It was time to look for another alternative. Here is the story:

It was a Friday when we got a phone call from my brother saying he could not keep Cheyenne. My mom and I were in the Grand Canyon, miles from being able to do anything. My brother decided to leave the dog at my mom's house, and my wonderful husband had to pick up the ball and deal with the situation. After hearing back from the Weimaraner Rescue that was going to be able to take her (they only had one spot open), Christopher left school and picked up Cheyenne. She was beside herself to see him. I think she knew she was going to come home and see her beloved companion, Dyson (our greyhound). Their reunion was heartbreaking. They sat on the bed together and cuddled, never leaving each other's side. Knowing they would not stay together made it even harder for Christopher to deal with. He felt absolutely awful about not being able to keep such a sweet dog.

Saturday morning Christopher was dressed and ready to take Cheyenne to the rescue. One look at how Dyson and Cheyenne held each other made it even harder for him. It took him several hours to work up to separating them and breaking their hearts. When Christopher finally got Cheyenne in the car she knew she wasn't coming back. She tried her best to endear herself to him and appeared to be pleading with him to stay. With tears in his eyes, Christopher pulled up to the rescue and took Cheyenne in. Although she appeared to feel comfortable with the other Weimaraners, Christopher's heart was broken when she wanted nothing more to do with him. He left truly devastated.

About six weeks later, I received an e-mail from a woman who had adopted Cheyenne. Here is what she wrote:

Hello, Jenni.

My name is ****. I hope you won't think it too presumptuous or intrusive on my part, for I wouldn't want to invade your privacy for the world, but I was wondering if the dog we recently adopted, a Weimaraner named Cheyenne, belonged to your late father. I understood that her owner had died, and I felt so bad for her and the family. I saw the owner's name on the vet records, did a little internet surfing, and stumbled on your blog. You seem like such a lovely, warm person. I always try to put myself in another person's shoes, and I can't help but think that if I were in your family's place, I would want to know that my dad's beloved companion found a loving home.

When I unpacked Cheyenne's belongings from the rescue, I was bowled over with emotion—there was doggie toothpaste, a toothbrush, a doggie electric toothbrush (lol!), AND bottled doggie water with electrolytes, not to mention her little toys. I was so touched, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, quite honestly. What I did know right away was that this was a dog who had been very much loved and cared for, and that her owner had been a fine man.

My husband and I already love Cheyenne very much, and I have thought a lot about the man who left her behind but obviously adored her. Sometimes on our walks, I have talked to him in my heart, tried to reach him in spirit, and have told him not to worry—his baby is in good hands. And I thank him for having been so good to her. I feel that in some small way I have gotten to know him through Cheyenne, who is a reflection of the love she received.

I've taken a chance on sending this to you in the hope that I haven't gotten the wrong person. If you would like to write back or know more, please feel free. I can also e-mail you some photos if you'd like. Please know that Cheyenne has three comfy doggie beds and four sofas to choose from (including my beloved Pottery Barn micro-suede cushy couch, which she now clearly owns), gets regular nature walks (we are near the Santa Monica mountains), and is treated like a princess. She also has a new friend, our other Weimaraner, Maverick. He is 14 years old (we also got him from Friends for Pets 12 ½ years ago), and Cheyenne is keeping him young. She is wonderful, and we're grateful to have her!

Again, I hope that I haven't imposed on you.

My best wishes to you and yours,

*****

You can only imagine the flood of emotion that went through me. I was beside myself with joy that Cheyenne was loved. I immediately showed the e-mail to Christopher and the tears flowed from us. It was such a difficult decision to make and after reading this e-mail I knew it was the right one. I'm forever grateful for the generosity of people. I hope that sharing this creates a burning in you to be generous with someone who could really use it.

Hugs,

Jenni

Warmth

While Chris was away playing a gig with We Five this weekend, I spent a lot of time with my mom. We talked about so many memories we share and what makes us who we are. I have always been a person who will go to the ends of the earth for someone. If I see a need I try to fill it. Mom reminded me of a time when I forced that upon Chris. It was an icy cold evening and the three of us were out together. We saw this homeless man suffering in the cold. Usually I am quick to give money or food, but this particular night I was overwhelmed by this urge to give him warmth. Chris had his jacket in the car, one that he truly loved, and I told him to pull over and give this man his jacket. He looked at me like I had lost my mind. I began pleading with him and telling him that if he or someone he loved was enduring this cold night with little more than a long sleeve shirt, would he not want someone to help. He reluctantly pulled over, slowly got out of the car, took his jacket over to this man, and wrapped him in it. The gratitude that showed on this man’s face was all the thanks that we needed. Chris may have lost his favorite jacket that night, but the gift he gave was not only to this man, it was to me. He gave me the precious gift of warmth when I felt so strongly about giving away one of his favorite jackets. We gave this homeless man warmth that night, but Chris gave me warmth in my heart for a lifetime.