For about 1/10 of a second around Christmas we considered considering whether we should consider getting a dog. Not because we want one. Not because we think having a dog is a particularly good idea when we don't have a yard and would be going down and up and out and about four to five times a day regardless of the weather, or time, or life. Nor does it seem like a particularly brilliant idea when one considers that we have some allergy issues here with one kid whose skin breaks out if she looks at certain foods, hears certain music, or senses certain vibrations, and one kid with asthma. However, there was that 1/10 of a second. Because our daughter is so desperately, purely in love with dogs. Her entire being aches to have a dog. Also, I feel like our other kid has such an enormous personality it would probably be nice for her to have something calm and soothing and all about her.
The 1/10 of a second passed. Practically and pragmatically speaking, it had to. But I did commit to finding some opportunities for her to get some animal time. My research yielded a free program called Caring Kids at Animal Haven -- an animal shelter by Little Italy. So down we schlepped late this afternoon.
Judd the Red Chicken was having a slightly bad attitude about it, but apologized when we settled onto our folding chairs and up on the screen he saw that the topic of today's workshop was "Animal Cops: Humane Investigation."
We were put into groups and the educator taught us how important it is to call in when we see an animal being neglected. First we learned what "neglect" means (not providing basic needs: food/water, shelter, medical care), then we saw pictures and had to write in our notebooks what the clues were that the animal was being neglected. We even worked with a chart that showed body conditioning -- what it looks like when a dog is too thin (or too fat -- the truly obese are often being neglected in that they are getting human garbage as opposed to actual dog food). The next part was learning what information should be noted before making the call (the signs of neglect -- i.e. chain can't reach shelter, no food or water dishes, outside in the elements, etc.), description of the animal (in case there are multiple animals at the location), and the location.
The workshop definitely hit a goal of empowering the children. It was like: you have been properly educated; you have the power to effectively help an animal in distress. It was pretty cool.
Further, I was happy that my kids successfully passed the social agility test. As best that I could ascertain the other workshop attendees seemed to fit the profile of awesome-tribecca/soho/village-specialized-schoolers, and yet my humble homeschooled moppets held their own. Their answers were insightful -- one of my offspring knocked it out of the freakin' park by bringing in a book reference. When we were asked to define "neglect" one of the attendees was kind of dancing more around "abuse" and my kid was like: "Maybe it's more like The One and Only Ivan -- when the animals weren't given proper food and space." Wham! Even cooler, he said it gently -- so as not to imply that the other kid was "wrong." Also, my other offspring mentioned on the way home that "even if you think you know all the answers, you don't have to raise your hand every single time." I honestly don't write this to highlight that my kids are awesome (there's really no need since my readership = my mother-in-law... I'm preaching to the choir), but I feel compelled to document that the year isn't turning them into socially inept jerks. Within the last day I got the privilege of hearing somebody share her opinion on how homeschoolers (said in a stage whisper) are all "permanently socially damaged" and "unable to function in the world." Woof. Bigotry is alive and well.
Anywho, at the end of the hour a visitor -- one of the dogs looking for a "forever home" -- comes into the room and the children get to meet him/her. When that moment came I think my girl vaulted over all the other children/parents/folding chairs in a single swift movement. She was next to me, and I blinked, and somehow she was in the back of the room and planted in the greeting circle. A lot of ground can be covered in 1/10 of a second.
