World Environment Day

Today is World Environment Day.  Run by the United Nations, WED is the "principal vehicle for encouraging worldwide awareness and action for the environment."  This year, the theme is small islands and climate change.


Growing up part-time in Gabon, I visited a nearby Portuguese-speaking island, Sao Tome, very frequently.  Sao Tome is impoverished and rugged and probably only has 4 toilets on the whole of its surface, but it has a vicious beauty that eats at my soul every time I dream of my time on the island.  In the shanties and "cities" on Sao Tome, homeless dogs and pigs ran everywhere while little children tried to catch them (sometimes for dinner- but that's another post).  Seeing these little settlements practically covered in waste makes me go gung-ho for this year's theme, even if I do dislike the slogan ("raise your voice not the sea level").  I wish they had gone for something a little shorter and less grammatically obnoxious.  But c'est la vie, the UN can only do so much.

Today, I celebrated national earth day by planting tree seedlings in old yogurt containers.  Once they grow to be able to weather the horrific climate of Los Angeles, I'll put them in my neighborhood, maybe my local park.

I like to always have a long term goal with this holiday.  Sort of like a New Year's Resolution but something that's more interesting to me than a diet.  This year, I've decided to learn and teach as much and as many people as possible about how everyone's carbon footprint effects my beloved Sao Tome and even Gabon.

Tiger did his part as well; he helped me pick out which seeds to buy and which trees to transplant. I know my little guy cares about the world just as much as I do.

Foster Dog Lily

Yesterday my foster dog, a sweet little bichon named Lily, finally received her forever home: a young family with two children living in Beverly Hills post office.  Lily is a present for their daughter's birthday, and I've never seen a happier kid than she when I opened the door with her new puppy.
I feel the need to say that this dog was a headache at times.  My subject tests are June 7, less than a week away.  Although I loved the dog, her energy, and her playfulness, I had to wake up at 6:30 every morning to walk the thing.  Also, she pulled on her leash so much that at times I thought my wrist would fall off.  ALSO NOT POTTY-TRAINED.  My family seemed to not absorb that little factoid, and let her run all over the house.  So, when my dad grounded me because she left little presents all over the house, I couldn't take it seriously.
People need to understand that fostering isn't just paying for food and walking a dog.  It takes its toll on every aspect of your life.  Your job, your house, your energy, your emotions, your friends, your other dogs, your family, your backyard, your carpet.  Emphasis on the carpet.
But with all my griping, I love it.  I couldn't imagine myself doing anything different.  I'm probably doing this for selfish reasons, because I crave the utter devotion that comes from a 12 pound dog treating you like God; it's my heroin.  With fostering dogs, it doesn't matter if you weigh 300 pounds and stutter, they worship you because you took them from an abusive home or off the streets. That kind of truly unconditional love is extremely rare, and I'm grateful every day for it.
Lily made me smile every time I saw her smiling face.  Even if I was internally screaming when she licked me awake at 4:50AM, I smiled and rubbed her belly while I gathered enough self-control to walk her.
Fostering Lily and her happy personality really made me think about all of the other dogs I've fostered, and how they feel about me.  I especially think about Leo and Lila, the dogs who came to me the most abused and emaciated and hopeless.  Lila brings me to tears more quickly, and I think about how her ripped leg made a beautiful recovery, and how she would hide from everyone but me.  Leo's anger towards any male that came towards me makes me giggle.
I miss all of them.  Each and every one I shed a tear for, even months later.  Lily's new home will help her put on weight and learn that peeing on the rug is not allowed.  They'll rename her, get her a new snazzy haircut, and soon no one will believe she had been left on the street to die.
But I'll always remember the day that Lily came to my house, fleas and mats in tow, scared but eager to start her new life.  And one day, a few months from now, I'll remember the day she left and cry a little bit.  But not enough to stop me from texting her new parents and asking for a cute picture.