Tomorrow – June 9th – is my thirty-second birthday. This is only important to a small number of people, and rightly so. It is also the seventh anniversary of my association with the Humane Society (that’s right, I went to a job interview on my birthday.)
When my wife Laura and I talked about having a party on Saturday, I was adamant that guests not bring gifts. I’ve already got everything I could want: I have a great home, a wonderful family, and an ever-widening circle of friends, along with all the piles of things you accumulate in thirty two years.
I also have a great job doing what I love for people and animals – and it’s that part that really got me thinking. I’ve got a great life, so great that I can’t think of a single material thing I really need. But that places me in a small minority, and I learned that firsthand working here at the Humane Society.
When I started here as an animal control officer in 2005, I had never worked in animal welfare before, never experienced the cruel realities of poverty here in our own community. Add in the peculiarities of my personality and the effects of six years of military service, and I was completely out of touch with the problems people were facing every day here in Reading and Berks. And because I lacked understanding, I also lacked compassion. Luckily, I learned
that compassion here at the Humane Society.
I’ll never forget the homeless woman I met on Spring Garden whose scruffy Chihuahua rode in a dilapidated baby stroller while she collected cans to recycle. She and the dog slept in an abandoned house at night because she couldn’t take him into a homeless shelter.
I’ll always remember the gratitude and dignity of a retired Navy man in Jacksonwald to whom we regularly delivered dog food as part of our Ani-Meals on Wheels program. Prior to that, he’d shared his food with his old German Shepherd – and I bet the dog still got some choice bits afterward.
And maybe most of all of these, I can still see the faces of families reunited with pets we offered temporary housing after disasters. They had weeks or months of cleanup ahead and plenty of headaches to come, but they were together.
We couldn’t solve all of their problems, but I have watched the Humane Society help these people and thousands like them over the past seven years. And it may be selfish to consider this just as important, but they helped me too. I am not the person I was seven years ago, and while much of that is due to the superhuman patience and love of my wife Laura, I owe an incalculable debt to the Humane Society and to the people and animals we help everyday.
While I said at the beginning that I didn’t want gifts, I’ll ask you for one now if any of what I said made sense to you. Please make a donation to the Humane Society, whether it’s a monetary gift or a bag of dog food, or reserve a pass for the upcoming Pints for Pups. You’ll help us to continue the vital work that makes life just a little bit better for the people and animals we serve – and for me, too.