Life gets better, or so they say!
I can’t remember being dumped. Everything happened so damn fast. Up to that point, to be honest, my life hadn’t exactly gone to plan. I was born one of triplets. I don’t remember my mum or dad, or even my brother and sister for that matter. The fact I recall that one was a boy and one a girl is remarkable in itself - although I have no idea how I know, I just do!
Neither do I remember much of my early life. Unless someone tells you, how can you? One of my earliest memories is of being kept in a cold place, being given food you wouldn’t feed to a pig. Water so bitter it was all I could do to keep some down. How can people be so cruel? At the beginning, I used to ask myself “why me?” I suppose that all who have to cope with neglect ask the same questions. You find yourself going through all sorts of crazy emotions and lashing out at all who are near you. This results in further abuse and neglect.
So, no warm food, no nice warm cup of tea or warm milk! However, life wasn’t all bad. I was very small when I was born - no, I mean really tiny. Not so that I had to be in intensive care, but, believe me I was and still am, the smallest guy I know. The result is that my peers were all much bigger than me. I guess I learnt everything I knew at my early age from these guys. I remember the time Mitchell found a puppy that was lost in a hay barn. Some people working on the farm next door had placed 500 bales of hay in the barn and hadn’t known that a puppy had lost it’s way and headed into the barn, hiding at the sound of people and ending up unable to get out. Mitchell had known. How he knew, how his instincts had told him I can but guess - the guy had a talent for finding things that no one else ever could. He should have been in drug protection, rescue service, or such like - not kept in dreary conditions, looking after the sheep, rain or shine. Not that he wasn’t good at it - but, there were many others above him and he never reached the heights he should have. Then, there was Minky. Minky was the most beautiful babe I ever saw. She was always kind to me, which led to me being beaten up and pushed around and teased on more than one occasion. She had a fantastic body! When she was around everyone looked. She was also very athletic and could outrun all who raced her, even the lads! But, when like me you are in care, life doesn’t always help out. Poor Minky! She should have been a film star, a TV personality, a real celebrity. Not a teenage mother, forced into a unloving marriage, ending up as a breeding machine for a crazed brute who wanted lots of children but no love, no tenderness, no kindness in return. Last I heard, Minky had died, young and emancipated, better off I hope, in the next world, if there is any justice at all.
So, my friends and enemies I suppose, had a great influence on me. I decided at an early age that I would try to emulate Mitchell and Minky - to use my skills to the benefit of others, of those around me. My size has helped me in this. When as small as I am, people treat you as fragile, as soft and I even got the odd cuddle from a pretty girl! It is not easy trying to be useful in this world, trying to make your mark in a world that is very harsh, full of control freaks, of bullies and of generally nasty folk. A lot depends on those around you as you grow up. Just as important is the influence of life changing events. They may be small ones, like my memory of Mitch and Minky. But, sometimes these events, however insignificant, have a profound effect on us for no apparent reason. This has always been my way - to try to grow and learn from those around me.
So, my early days weren’t loving but I did start to look for a way to be the best I could and to seek to inspire others. However, I didn’t really get the chance till that fateful day I was dumped. Now, I don’t suppose for a moment that you, if you’re reading this, have been physically left in the middle of nowhere. I had absolutely no idea where I was in relation to my home. I often wonder whether Mitch would have known - somehow I think he would have. Indeed, I thought for the first few days, that Mitch would turn up - perhaps with Minky - and take me back. Of course, I didn’t like my home much, but it was all I knew at the time. To be left with not a soul around for many weeks left me with several demons to cope with, I can tell you. I lost weight to the point of nearing death, my skin was ragged and cold. I lost my coat through brambles and such, and water was difficult to find. When I did find some, it wasn’t much better than the stuff given to me when I was younger. I had nothing to carry water in and my constant journeying around, looking for help, seemed to lead me in to circles. Anyway, the days were not much fun! The night were terrible. I have never been afraid of the dark up to that point. I’m ok if there are other’s around me, but I don’t much like being in the dark on my own any more. Being so small, I guess everything looked much bigger to me than most, so my perception wasn’t much fun. I did panic, I admit, which meant that any instincts I had proved to be pretty useless, save the need for survival.
Anyway, enough moaning! I survived, just! I was eventually picked up by a police person, having been found, to my shame, by a pointer dog. At last I was saved from slowly going bonkers on the moor. I was taken to the police station and received my first proper food in a few weeks, and a lovely fresh drink - the memory of which has never gone. There is nothing like cold, fresh, clean water to refresh the system. Then, dramatically, my life changed for ever. I knew as soon as I saw her that she was kind. But, more than that, there was something about her that made me realise that our lives would be entwined from that moment on. And, so it was to be.
She and the police evidently tried to find my previous carers - but, fortunately for me, to no avail. She, took me home with the full support of the authorities. Her husband (they have never married but live as man and wife) was equally as kind and somewhat funny and loved playing games with me. They encouraged me greatly, allowed me to reach my potential, to be the someone I had craved to be when young. To them, my size didn’t matter. Indeed, they treated me as if I was ’normal’. To my astonishment I went on to win a gold medal in the highest and hardest level of difficulty I could imagine. I learnt quickly and really enjoyed the disciplines involved. I have since taken these talents to those less fortunate than me - at a place Social Services keep some very unfortunate souls who enjoy my talents - at last I can give something back. My ’new’ parents have several children of their own - but I remain by far the smallest! They also have horses, goats, a pig and two cats, whom I don’t personally care for in the least. We have all recently moved to the countryside and I love it. Can’t wait until summer - to be able to run around the fields, playing ball and teasing the Doberman.
I continue to grow. Not in size, but in personality, to aspire to greater things, to ensure my parents are safe, to inspire those around me, to love all I can, to bring joy to those who are less fortunate than me or need my help. I hope I shall be able to do these things for the rest of my life. I know I only have a relatively short life compared to my parents - but then, I am only a tea-cup Chihuahua called Gizmo!