A loud bark ending in a high pitch. She made sure she was noticed that day. Almost as if she was saying “here I am, here I am” in an impatient, persistent manner. She knows motherhood, perhaps this is what made her more resilient? Few things in life, if any, can trump a mothers survival instincts. She towered over the others, physically and vocally, she was the strongest and the loudest of them all. She was the third of four emaciated chained dogs. Even on that day, despite her circumstances, her tail was wagging. It was the start of her new narrative.
I am a Survivor
Her first bowl of food disappeared in under 3.5 seconds, she was lightning fast. No doubt her survival instinct combined with the need to compete for everything, or anything to eat, conditioned her to be first that fast. I did not really pay much attention to her until that moment. She polished that bowl, then started barking again, that loud bark ending in a high pitch. A scene that reminded me of Oliver Twist “More, please sir”. She, who has not been named, the third of four to be unchained was the only one who barked.
Help us unchain another today
Stronger, louder, faster
It has been three weeks since the rescue. Her body filled out nicely. I am so impressed with her progress. She is nearly there, closer to the finish line, long before the others. Still, I mostly see her in passing only. Part of me always knew she would be okay, so my attention veered more to the other three. They needed more, she was going to be okay. Was it wrong of me? Who will name her? Who will love her? Are the strongest always left to fend for themselves? She did, the one who has not been named, the third of four to be unchained.
Could she be Daenerys, the First of Her Name, the Unburnt, freer of the oppressed, the Breaker of Chains, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. A Mother of Dragons?
