Silent Teacher

“Why is that one all alone?” I asked my friend who had taken me out back to see the new litter of puppies.

I was pointing to a small grey swell of pelt, with eyes that told countless tales. It had been intentionally separated from its fellow newcomers and their mother. As I continued towards the isolated pup, I noticed healing wounds on the face and body.

“He had the misfortune of being born the sole male in a litter of six,” replied AJ, my childhood friend who was at the time a medic in the United States Army Reserve. “A short time after, he was mauled by the others and the mother. I walked in just in time. They were tearing him to shreds. I ran to his aid, swooped down and rescued him from their midst. He was bleeding profusely. I rushed him into the house and began to clean him up and attend to his wounds.”

I was speechless. I was never much of an animal lover. However, at that moment I felt a strong sense of compassion for the forlorn puppy. His pain suddenly became my own. With no warning, I was overwhelmed by sympathy and began to feel it in my gut.

“What’s their current situation?” I asked.

“He wants to be with them, but they seem intent on finishing what I interrupted,” AJ whispered. “I’m trying to find a good home for him.”

“I’ll take him!” I replied without hesitation.

“Are you sure?” AJ asked. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know. I want to. I’ll take him. I’m sure,” I said.
That night, we drove home with a new addition to the household. He sat quietly on my wife’s lap the entire ride home. My wife and I spent the drive trying to comprehend the torment this poor creature had faced. He was the black sheep of his litter. It was for this reason we decided to name him Sevook .
Sevook quickly made a place for himself in our house and in our hearts. My son, who was three at the time, loved to run around with him in the backyard. A quiet and faithful companion, Sevook never made it a burden to care for him. I remember coming home in the evenings knowing I’d find him behind the front door waiting to be acknowledged.

What I found fascinating was Sevook’s reaction to AJ every time they met. Sevook would smell AJ and seemed to actually miss his mother and sisters; the very same bunch that tried to end his young life.

Three years went by and Sevook’s presence had grown to be a part of daily life. Feeding him had become a routine. As had his veterinary visits, grooming and exercise. One winter day, we returned home after a couple of hours of Christmas shopping. It was a nice day outside. We’d left Sevook in the backyard to roam around freely as we’d done countless times before. I knew something was wrong when I walked into the house and did not hear him run towards the back door to scratch at it. I opened the door and walked outside. Sevook was nowhere to be found. I called his name and there was no response. I asked the neighbors if they’d seen him. They hadn’t. I walked, drove and rode my bike all over the neighborhood looking for Sevook. My wife and son joined in the search. My brother made flyers and posted them throughout the neighborhood. We called the animal shelter. We did all we could to find Sevook and bring him home. He was nowhere to be found.

As a child, my mother taught me to forgive. The Good Book teaches us to forgive, as do many other religions. It wasn’t until I met Sevook that I came to understand the meaning of forgiveness. He was wronged by those who nature has charged with his care, yet he showed no animosity towards them.

It’s been over six years since I last saw Sevook. In my mind’s eye, I still see him looking at me with his loving eyes. Waiting for me to come in and acknowledge him with love. I see him quietly fulfilling his purpose in life… teaching me to forgive.