Written By Jill Lovato, BDAR Adopter
You know about false starts. I know about them, too. I ended my undergraduate experience by counting up the number of credits I had in a handful of majors and just chose based on what added up to a Bachelor of Arts. Between my mid-20s and mid-30s, I lived in a dozen apartments/rooms/houses in three towns. I married the first guy that asked and ended up in a hurtful divorce while the rest of my friends were starting their families.
I traveled. I lived. I pondered.
At 32, I finally married my true beloved. At 33, I became a mother for the first time. At 36 (and a half) I delivered our younger child. I landed at my life’s professional calling at 40. At 45, I can comfortably voice my opinion (which is often unpopular in whatever present company is at the moment).
Tuli ready fo the road trip!
But like I said, we all know about false starts.
What drew me to the BDAR website, I can’t recall. I just typed it into Google one day. The bottom right thumbnail under the “Adopt” tab was Tuli. Like the rest of us, she knew about false starts. Rescued from the Rawlins shelter by BDAR, adopted for three years, returned, adopted for a year, returned, fostered for four months, adopted…
… by my family in June of 2015. We didn’t change her name. We couldn’t change her middle-aged dog ways. And anyway we didn’t want to, didn’t need to. She’d had some false starts, but at 6 (and a half), she had found her family. In dog terms, that’s a life’s professional calling. She had arrived where she was supposed to be. That was it. Time to travel. And live. And ponder.
When you meet someone in middle age, you might try to learn what came before. Ask questions: where were you born, what’s your family like.
But what’s more significant is someone’s potential. Why are you here, why did our paths cross, where are you headed?
Tuli and I shared a parallel first half of life. We’d both had false starts. But why were we both “here,” why did our paths cross?
I think we came together to reflect our best common traits back to one another. To live our best lives, we needed to be shown our highest value. Tuli and I didn’t settle. We needed to arrive - deliberately or by happenstance - into our chosen lives. Tuli “stuck” in our home because she wanted to be here. Maybe she liked that my list of friends was short, like hers. Maybe she liked that we shared the same philosophy: I have an opinion and my opinion matters. Maybe she liked that loyalty - sticking - is ranked high around here. It’s our love language.
For whatever reason she stuck with us, I’m grateful she did. I didn’t know I wanted or needed my canine parallel to show me value in being selective, in standing up for what I believe in (however in opposition to present company), in cultivating true relationship and defending it above all else. For her second half of life and for a few years of mine, she reminded me that living fully according to heart and gut will give you everything you need: love, nourishment, fulfilling life’s work, deep thinking and sometimes instant gratification. Even after false starts, we can bloom.
Tuli lounging with her cat sibling
Tuli and I made promises to each other that, in the past, weren't kept, but we kept them for each other. We also made exceptions: I forgave her penchant for barking and she learned to leave cats alone. As two middle-aged gals, we valued a little adventure and lots of peace. Together, we enjoyed challenges and living with ease. Maybe she saw herself in me from the very start. Maybe I felt like home to her. I certainly grew to understand that so much of my idea of home was reflected in her. Now that she’s gone, I feel a little homeless. Kind of like how she started out early in her life.
Tuli’s story is a testament to rescue and BDAR’s mission. But it’s also a little like my story. And isn’t it a little like yours? We’ve all had false starts, and we all deserve a chance to love and be loved, to find nourishment, and to fulfill our purpose. The effect of our mere doing so is significant to those around us. Some of us are fortunate to have had the opportunity to bloom late under second or third or fourth chances. Just like Tuli.
