I lost my dad in September 2019. Its almost a year since he had been gone, and for me to come to terms with it. I recalled the morning he passed on, I saw him for the last time and naively thought he will make it out of the hospital in the coming days and I could have dinner with him again.
I was so distraught I couldn’t bear to attend his cremation. I huddled outside the temple I had been praying fervently for his recovery for weeks and couldn’t stop my tears for ages. The grief was acute, raw and it swallowed me whole.
I believed what the soul needed, the heart beckons, and so almost a month after his passing, I found myself volunteering for stray feeding. I recalled the last time I went, which was months ago, the feeling of peace and tranquility I had experienced from the session.
It was something I needed desperately to refuel my empty spirit. I think some dog angels saw a soul hey needed to save and led me to it again.
I stepped into the crisp night air and for the first time, allowed myself to take in the surroundings slowly. I had been on auto-pilot for weeks and the numbness helped got me through the days and the long nights.
The air was fresh and there was a light breeze accompanying us that night. Every breath I took thawed me a little inside. My fellow volunteers and me set to work quickly, scooping the food and kibbles into different containers for the different routes we will be taking to feed the stray dogs. The aching deep loss in my heart which I had carried for weeks lifted momentarily while the sound of food sloshing and light-hearted chatter filled the otherwise silent night.
Once the food containers were filled, we spilt into 3 teams, with each car taking a different route. Our team drove up to a deserted factory and started calling out familiar names the volunteers gave to the stray dogs. Some of the friendlier ones came bounding excitedly out, some shy ones stood nearby, hungry for the food we were holding yet too afraid to venture closer.
I spotted a brown and white one near the edge of the road. What drawn me to her was her demeanor, she looked unsure of herself and seemed to be as lost as I felt. I slowly went to her and held out some food. She took a step back and I looked into her eyes. Eyes that spoke volumes of constant thirst, hunger, rough living and danger. Eyes that still bore hope when she noticed the food in my hands. She came gingerly towards me and I squatted down to appear less intimidating. She came nearer and nearer to me and quickly took a bite of the food I laid on the ground.
My heart leapt for joy at her trust in me. That momentary spark of joy I felt rekindled a light inside me which I thought will never shine again. While she ate hungrily, I came closer to pat her, she froze a second at my touch and continued gobbling up the rest of the food. Her fur felt wet and rough, fur that hadn’t ever experienced a bath and weathered the scorching sun and relentless rain. There we were in the middle of the night, 2 sentient beings seeking comfort in each other through different ways.
I bade farewell to her when we were about to leave and wished for her to stay safe. With a full belly, she ran off happily and went on to seek out her pack.
That night, I started to heal inside. Those few hours of being together with such carefree and contented creatures lifted me out of the darkness I was trapped in. It seemed to the world like we were the ones saving them, but in actual fact, they are the ones that saved us.
Written by: Jamie Faith
