A Tale of a Small Dog
by Rob Fergusson, July 2006

Our Story

I Ellie was a shitzu - not my favorite breed, but a dog that nevertheless grew on me quite quickly. She had the big, appealing eyes of that breed, and some humorous quirks, like stopping at the top of every flight of stairs, and waiting for you to say, "OK", before running down them.

Ellie was a Katrina dog. She had belonged to a family that lived in New Orleans until the twin tragedies of that powerful hurricane and the collapse of a protective levee. I know nothing of Ellie's family - who they were, how many in the family, how they loved her, or what their lives looked like before their tragedy. I'll never know them - they'll always be distant strangers, which is something of an odd feeling after having spent time with their lovely dog. They had been evacuated to the Houston Astrodome, at which point they were separated from their dog. You'll remember that dogs could not be accommodated in that stadium.

I don't know what magic kept Ellie safe in the early days after the hurricane, but eventually Carolina Canines, a nonprofit rescue group, brought Ellie and many other canine refugees, to North Carolina. They then set about finding foster homes for them. I wouldn't think it would be an easy sell, for they were looking for people willing to give a dog a possibly permanent home, yet be willing to give the dog up if the original owner could get settled enough to take their dog back. I guess I find that sense of potential loss difficult, and perhaps that tells me something about myself. Yet Carolina Canines had great success, and that warms my heart.

Ellie was placed with a very caring person who went through some not insignificant sacrifices to be able to act as her foster owner. As I said, Ellie was quite a joy to be around, and it proved to be a terribly short association, for only three weeks later word came that Ellie was to be reunited with her family.

I watched the Carolina Canines volunteer pick up Ellie for the ride to the airport, and that volunteer, who had to have been through this so many times, began crying. I choked up quite badly, too, as I handed Ellie over. Why was that? I think it was more than missing a sweet dog; I think it was because she was so innocent. She would always be blissfully ignorant of how close she had been to being lost in, and perishing in, that hurricane wasteland. Nor would she ever know the efforts extended on behalf of her well-being - the beauty of complete strangers in different states working so hard to care for her and then reunite her with her loved ones. What touched my heart so deeply about her innocence, I think, is that it reflected our yearning for that kind of innocence for ourselves. It is natural to want to see life as positive and safe, and to want to know with assurance that what we all did with love for that tiny little Ellie, God does with love for each of us, especially when divorce brings our lives crashing down around us.

I have watched so many separations and divorces in my business, and while they typically start with great loss and fear of the unknown, if handled right, they can end with a sense of a new, exciting lease on life - on a life better than anything in the past. To get there, one has to start with faith - with the very faith we yearn to have assurance about.

Wishing you vision, recovery and stability;
Rob