by Kim Meeder
Nearly all her adult life had been consumed with the pursuit of fulfillment, worth, and love. In a give-and-take world, Laurie soon learned that if she wanted to feel valued and loved, it was going to cost her. Her desperation to fill these needs was matched only by her vain attempts to satisfy them. Slowly, her resistance to stand against self-destructive habits caved in under the weight of their promised consolations.
In an effort to quell her insatiable desire to be valued, accepted, and loved, Laurie gradually relinquished her moral code. She fought less and less to retain a place of virtue. Instead of pursuing her dreams, she yielded to the destructive flow of drifting downstream. By doing so, every new twist in her logic led her to make one detrimental decision after another. Each destructive choice ushered her deeper into the hollow wasteland of loneliness. Outwardly her childhood ideals had become her self-fulfilling prophecy. To others, she looked happy, she looked beautiful, she looked prosperous. The truth of who she was lay barren and buried deep inside her.
On the inside, Laurie was dying.
Thus she began a personal search for anything that would fulfill her, anything that would give her vacant existence meaning. First, Laurie bought into the lie that if she were thinner, then she would be closer to society’s standard of beauty and worthy of everlasting love. Sadly, the result was not fulfillment but utter imprisonment. Laurie became a slave to her image, her weight, and a gnawing obsession with food. She dragged the shackles of a distorted self-image.
Needing to flee her confused and troubled heart, Laurie ran. She focused on escaping to a new place where she could make a fresh start. Her actions looked to those around her like a glorious, innovative chapter of adventure and travel. Surely, gaining an education abroad, exploring luxurious locations, and dining on exotic cuisine would boost the bottom line of her value as a progressive woman. With each move, she hoped to find the perfect place where she would finally fit in, where she might be freed from her plague of loneliness.
When it came to building friendships in these new regions, Laurie understood it was only a matter of time before she was discovered as a fraud. She didn’t know how to be a friend or live selflessly for others. In each new place, she realized it would be only a few months before her previous mistakes and selfish breakdowns would overtake her once again. Her ability to sustain a lasting relationship was always undermined by the false exterior she huddled behind. She was certain that once people glimpsed beyond her thin veneer, they would be disgusted by what they saw. To spare others the loathing and her own self the shame, she made it a habit to move on before anyone really knew her. Laurie repeated this shallow, transient practice for several years to keep from facing her broken past.
With each move to a new location, Laurie allowed herself to be pulled into different and sometimes alternative crowds. She often mimicked those around her by forsaking who she was in exchange for what she believed others wanted her to become. For a brief phase, she imitated the glamorous crowd but was flatly rejected by their self-entitled ways.
It was nearly effortless for her to find a niche in the earthy spiritual-energy group, but their strange self-righteousness eventually drove her away. Laurie also stumbled into the angry, rebellious crowd, where no one was ever at fault. Here, her moral code slackened even further as she adopted the easy habit of simply blaming others for what she didn’t want to change. By doing so, she never had to take responsibility for her own destructive choices. It wasn’t long before partying and promiscuity became a normal part of Laurie’s life. In a sad moral bargain, she believed that if she hung out in trendy places and could show her peers that she was hip, funny, and engaging, maybe then they would accept her as a friend.
The price of becoming a valuable woman climbed to ever-increasing heights with every new boyfriend she allowed into what was left of her parceled-out heart. Every relationship began with the same euphoric high, driven by a false hope that this time it would be different. But it wasn’t different. Each relationship ended with the same crushing low, hallmarked by a greater sense of emptiness. Each failed liaison left Laurie with less of herself and more of the wasting disease of loneliness that devoured her very core. Her ever-changing life as a chameleon, trying to become the woman each man dreamed of, was costing Laurie her soul.
Although her facade remained glossy, intact, and beautiful, Laurie’s skillfully hidden true self always felt churned up, troubled, and empty. Because the attractive approach didn’t satisfy her, she even tried a short season of its polar opposite. Complete trashiness became her trademark. She dressed in tight, revealing clothing and wore heavy, dark makeup. She matched her internal pain with external piercings in a desperate effort to disguise her constant fear of rejection.
All of Laurie’s efforts to fill her heart with love, value, and purpose brought only fleeting moments of relief. She was starving, and everything she tried to feed herself brought only a savory aroma, merely enough to make her stomach knot and her mouth flood with the anticipation of something real. But nothing she could produce was real. She was terrified to take an honest look into her own soul. She felt certain that if she did, nothing would stare back at her but the bottomless, empty gaze of an emotional refugee.
The sum of Laurie’s endeavors to bear her brokenness left her with even greater wounds. Every self-promoting effort to restore her shattered heart resulted in greater devastation. All her frantic and manipulative cries for help fell upon the deafness of her peers. Everything she did to rescue herself failed. So she did the next best thing. She became a master of deception. There was no smile or angry expression she couldn’t hide behind. Sadly, the soul she was most deceiving was her own.
Even though the world shouted, “This is as good as it gets, this is all there is,” Laurie knew that she wanted something more. She struggled to hold on to the hope that perhaps there was something more. There must be something more.
There must be something more.
Insidiously, her vices took over—until one day Laurie realized she was no longer in control of the ploys she used to gain what she needed; they were in control of her. In that black season, Laurie finally recognized that she was being pulled into the throat of a behemoth. The monster that sought to destroy her had a ravenous mouth that knew no satisfaction. Its jagged teeth closed around her, paralyzing her with despair. The sharp fangs that gripped her had names: guilt, hopelessness, shame, selfishness, pride, fear, sorrow, worthlessness.
Although Laurie knew about God, she had chosen not to turn to him. She had mistaken God for a church, a group of people, and a set of rules. When they failed her, she believed that God also had failed her. God felt too far away to satisfy her needs. Even though she had been raised in a Christian home, she had never genuinely embraced her own relationship with God. Instead, she assumed only enough Christianity to make her look good when she needed to. Laurie learned how to wear faith like an accessory, choosing to bring it out only to complement her exterior appearance in order to blend in with others who had a deeper faith than her own.
On the outside, Laurie looked righteous and together, but inside she was in turmoil. She had never worked to cultivate genuine faith; she had never harvested genuine peace. She had come to the private conclusion that if God had plans to do something good in her life, he would have to prove himself to her. He would have to show her in a tangible way, according to her expectations, that he was real.
Driving up to a fork in the road, Laurie suddenly had to choose which direction would lead her back home. What am I doing? Trying to make myself feel better by rescuing a dog? Even if it’s the right thing to do, am I still doing it for the wrong reasons? Laurie acknowledged her attempt to fill the void in her heart with an unselfish act of benevolence. So far she didn’t feel any better. In fact, she felt worse.
She had pushed her blackness so far down into the caverns of her soul that she had come close to convincing herself that her heart was healing, that everything was going to be all right. When she looked a
t the ragged and rejected dog, instinctively she knew that this creature was a four-legged reflection of herself.
Instinctively she knew that this creature was a four-legged reflection of herself
Laurie still felt unsettled about the decision she had just made. She didn’t question whether she had done the right thing. Her only real question was whether she was the right one to do it. In an unconscious gesture of reassurance, Laurie reached across the seat and placed a gentle hand on the dog’s back. The dog shifted her weight, trying to move away. Laurie kept her hand quietly in place until the dog lay still. Without a word, she ran her hand over the smooth top of her dog’s head, attempting to ease away both of their fears.
“Sweet dog, you can relax now. You’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be all right. I’m going to take care of you. I don’t know how, but I’m willing to try. Rest easy. We’re going to work this out together.”
It was nearly dark when Laurie and I rounded the bottom of the ranch driveway. Old-fashioned lanterns hung in the twilight, beckoning us to follow them up the hill toward the promise of a warm fire. The snow had stopped falling, furnishing a sanctuary of silence. Reflecting on all she had said, Laurie snuggled her hands into her coat pockets and confided, “In that moment, my life was about to be permanently changed—by a dog.”
Another hot and dusty day was coming to a close on the ranch. After receiving hugs and words of encouragement, a giggling stream of kids trickled down the long driveway. The staff and I combed over the ranch, each seeking to rake, scoop, or sweep the areas we were responsible for.
I coiled the water hose on our grassy hill and picked up crushed paper cups. The afternoon breeze had hidden them in the rabbitbrush that flanks the green knoll. Only moments earlier, the now mangled cups had been the weapons used in a spontaneous, squealing water fight. The ambush had been waged between some of my staff and a group of mischievous and now soaking wet kids. It had been such a good day. In fact, any afternoon spent in the company of children is a good day.
I corralled a herd of mashed cups in my arms and made my way down the hill toward a garbage can by the barn door. When I released the cups over the can, a few renegades bounced off the rim and dropped to the ground.
Any afternoon spent in the company of children is a good day
Laurie, having just swept the boardwalk, came toward me with broom in hand. “Aha!” She laughed and pinned the stray cups to the ground before the breeze could scatter them again.
“Thanks, Lou.” I picked up the last rebels and tossed them in the trash.
She made use of her fake western drawl. “Glad I could help ya, ma’am.”
We laughed and talked about some of the highlights of the day, and then I saw Laurie’s expression turn thoughtful.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked.
Over the years, I’ve observed from my staff, friends, and family that this statement is far less a question than it is a plea to be heard. “Sure, let’s head up to the top of the hill.” I gestured sideways with my head.
We walked the short distance to the highest place we could find and, without grace, collapsed on the cool grass. I gazed across the lowlands toward the rising Cascade mountains, grateful for the chance to be still. Each of the peaks and glaciers, valleys and crevasses, took me on an instant, reminiscent journey of hiking, skiing, or mountaineering.
I stretched out on the grass and raised one arm toward Laurie. “Speak to me,” I said with mock drama that matched my goofy smile.
True to her nature, Laurie laughed and then shook her head. “No, it’s nothing big. I just wanted to tell you some really cool things that have been happening between my new dog and me.”
“I’d love to hear what’s been going on. Fire away!”
“By speaking out loud what I’m learning, it makes it more real, more permanent in my life. Know what I mean?” Her eyebrows accented her question.
I nodded in agreement.
“Well, once I brought my dog home, everything changed. She wasn’t just scared. She was really sick and weak and needed my help to recover. I wasn’t sure how things were going to work out, but within a few days I could tell she’d decided she could trust me. For some crazy reason, she chose to like me and wanted to play with me and sleep on my bed during her recuperation. Then, I believe, she started to love me … and I chose to love her back. She wasn’t the cool blue-eyed dog I had hoped for, but I started to see all that she was—a homely, kind, and loving dog. In a short amount of time, we’ve become really good friends.”
Once I brought my dog home, everything changed.
I couldn’t contain the broad smile that I felt spreading across my face. “Well, look at that. Good for you, girl, for stepping up. It matters more than you know. Whether she chose to love you or not wouldn’t have changed the fact that you did the right thing, and now something wonderful is happening because of it.”
Laurie plucked several blades of grass. “I didn’t think it was possible to become such good friends with a dog in such a short amount of time. I guess it took me a bit to realize that I needed to let go of my expectations and just accept her as she was.”
I agreed. “Honestly, I doubt there’s a creature on this earth that does exactly what you’ve just described better than a dog. No matter how badly we fail them, they just keep accepting us for who we are and love us anyway.”
“Yeah, she’s so much better at that than I am, but I’m learning. Wait! Make that, ‘we’re learning together.’”
“That’s the spirit!” I laughed and tossed a few blades of grass her way.
“There were so many changes my ‘Aussie girl’ and I needed to adjust to, like when I decided to rename her. Her old owner had called her Angel, which I didn’t feel suited her at all. Besides, I wanted her to have a new name to identify her new start with me. I wanted her to know she was mine, that she belonged to someone. After lots of thought, I finally chose Chiquita Mia, which is Spanish for ‘my little girl.’ I knew that Mia was a very different sounding name from the one she had known before. Still, I felt confident that we could make the transition together.”
I tested the name. “Mia. It’s beautiful. I think it fits her well. Good job.”
Love is not a feeling but a choice.
Laurie laughed a bit. “Even though Mia is nothing like what I had hoped for, she has stolen my heart. After spending time with her, all my selfish expectations seemed so small, so ridiculous. I’m ashamed I ever felt that way. Mia was homely, she was skinny, and she was stinky. But she was also kind, quiet, and gentle.”
Laurie appeared to be talking more to herself than to me now. “She’s becoming a true friend and a little dog that I’m growing to care for very much.
“And, get this—she has reminded me that love is not a feeling but a choice.”
In an effort to accustom her dog to the sound of her new name, Laurie used it often—very often.
“Mia-Mia-Mia!” she’d call.
The instant her dog would turn toward her, Laurie would deluge her with praise.
“Good girl, Mia!” She reached to stroke the top of Mia’s head. “Good dog, Mia.”
By making the whole process a game, Laurie hoped to create a fun time of bonding. Laurie added entertaining spontaneity to the renaming process by singing “Mia songs.”
Famous on the ranch for her ad-lib singing, Laurie is one of the true few who can make any person, place, or event into a song. Her original dog songs comprised whatever was playing on the radio, with Mia’s name and acclaim skillfully woven in to the lyrics. At the time, because little else was known about Mia, most of Laurie’s off-the-cuff lyrics featured the themes of her sweet dog’s smile or bad breath.
Every song ended the same, with Laurie dissolving into hilarious laughter.
With the car windows down and Mia’s tongue flapping in the breeze, Laurie and her dog made quite the singing sensation wherever they went. The amused expressions of the drivers around her only incre
ased Laurie’s joy. She would belt out a song and then turn to the dog sitting next to her as if she expected Mia to bark out the next verse. Then she would crack up at her own silliness. For Laurie, motoring down the road while singing a catchy tune to her new dog was such playful fun.
Laurie and her dog made quite the singing sensation wherever they went.
Mia took it all in stride. Sometimes, though, she would drop her head and gaze up at her new master with huge, forlorn eyes. Laurie concluded it was her dog’s way of saying, “Hey! My breath might be bad, but your singing is terrible!”
Laurie decided to test the many days of name training by exploring one of the numerous lovely parks in Bend. Once there, Laurie leashed her dog and headed toward the Deschutes River. She paused to stare at the deep blue Oregon sky, a cobalt pool of peace. It invited her to inhale a chestful of pure, abundant hope.
In an explosion of gold, rabbitbrush bloomed across the High Desert. The endless carpet of plush yellow flowers offered a soft landing for a multitude of butterflies. Laurie drank in the sheer wonder of the season, grateful for the refreshment it poured into her thirsty soul as she walked Mia along the banks of the river. In that peaceful moment, she leaned down to free Mia from her leash and let her take pleasure in simply being a dog.
When Mia realized that her master was going to release her, she wagged her entire body with the promising thrill of investigating this new world. Her pinballing course led her to every tree, bush, and clump of grass. Each one called out in competition for her inspection. Laurie smiled as her Aussie girl wound her way through the layered grasses along the river’s edge. With the slinky grace of a working-class cattle dog, Mia moved in perfect harmony within the placid environment.