Ramblings of an Old Dog.
There is a big old Saint Bernard dog at Hotel Dezor, in the village of Kaza, in the Spiti Valley, India. This canine warrior, however, is a bit of a sad and sorry sight. He stands tall among his street dog mates, but his fur is bedraggled, his two rear feet are bandaged, and he limps slowly and painfully around the hotel and surrounding streets. Karan, the hotel owner, looks after him. He feeds him well, tends his wounds and offers him regular walks, pats and rubs. No-one else touches him however. Maybe that’s because there’s a photo of him on the wall in the dining room with a large hand printed warning sign beside it.
“HIS BITE IS WORSE THAN HIS BARK. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE SAINT BERNARD.”
Beneath it, in smaller print, lies a notice with a somewhat tragic explanation.
“Simba is a gentle giant. However before coming to live with us he was abused. Sadly, now he doesn’t trust strangers. The kindest way to make him feel safe is to ignore him. When approached suddenly he can bite. He does so out of fear. We are trying to keep him in Spiti. Please help us to help him by admiring him from afar.”
It was heart wrenching watching Simba drag himself around warily on his wounded feet. This majestic rescue dog, bred for adventure and service, was now focused on pain management and survival.
When I read that notice on the wall, I couldn’t help thinking of the way in which the wounds we all sustain in life can lead us to feel unsafe, untrusting and afraid. I also thought about how, in attempts to protect ourselves from real and perceived dangers and further pain, we can remain withdrawn and distant from others. In our wounded, and sometimes trauma-induced states, even when kind strangers come close, we can growl, snarl and snap to keep them away. We can lose the will and energy to serve, and feel compelled to hunker down and preoccupy ourselves with survival.
I thank God that Ilam Baptist is a refuge for many and I trust that we will continue to be a community where wounded dogs, young and old, can find safe and caring refuge. Where the broken, bleeding and battered will be given time and space to recover and heal as they need to. Where injured souls will find wise and sensitive friends who help them, in their time, to rebuild strength, trust and courage. I also trust that many, like the Lion King’s Simba, will find the support and courage they need, to step back out into the world of risky adventure, and find joy in serving again.