DuBose: Can’t resist the puppy, kitty jungle gym
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| Holly DuBose spends time with puppies at the Naperville Area Humane Society during a volunteer session. (Jennifer DuBose photo – jenniferdubose@msn.com) |
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What does one do mere days after learning conclusively that she is, in fact, allergic to cats and dogs? Why, sign up to volunteer with her daughter at an animal shelter, of course.
Since December, my 10-year-old animal lover and I have spent our spare afternoons at the Naperville Area Humane Society, walking dogs and cuddling kittens. Holly once asked me if we could work a Sunday morning shift, when they deep-clean the kennels and cages. I consider myself to be a fairly good person – but I’m not that good. My daughter, now she’s another story. Suffice it to say that she doesn’t come by the cleaning gene naturally. Sure, we do our share of incidental cleaning while we’re at the shelter, of the if-it-falls-on-your-watch-then-you-get-to-pick-it-up variety, but that’s where I draw the line. I don’t even clean my own house. (Oh, sure I do – It’s not like I hire anyone, after all, unless you count the scams my kids run where they persuade me to let them do chores for money – but I don’t like it.)
The morning after our orientation at the shelter, Holly and Jake, our big red dog, curled up on the floor at my feet. She read the volunteer job descriptions out loud to him while I worked on a column.
“I want to do the socializing,” Holly announced. “I’m really good at that. I give great belly rubs, and great chin scratches to kitties,” she added. I love that she’s experiencing a competence of sorts. As Jake followed her downstairs for a snack, I imagined a lonely shelter doggy’s head resting in her lap while she sketched or read out loud. Yes, I decided, closing my eyes, she could read one of our favorite easy-readers, the one about the boy and his big yellow dog, “Henry and Mudge.” We’ve since learned, however, that aside from cuddling the kittens, volunteering at the shelter involves very little quiet time.
“I could use some help here,” Holly said one afternoon, as two 5-week-old puppies tugged at her shoelaces and another scrambled onto her shoulder as she sat, helpless and giggling, a few feet away from me.
“You’re on your own, hon,” I replied, laughing, “I’m up to my eyeballs in puppy, myself.” I felt like a puppy jungle gym, but I wasn’t complaining. It felt great. At one point, I reached out to hug Ginger, the puppies’ mother. She dropped her head onto my shoulder and sighed. She was so tired. Every mother is, especially one with six babies to nurse. Her job was especially tough, malnourished as she was. Just four days before we met her, she and her brood had made the big move from Oklahoma, where the shelter system is lacking. One of her pups – a precious white boxer and pit bull mix with a black patch over one eye that makes him look like Petey from the old television show “Our Gang” – almost ended up in my pocket. We’ve learned that volunteering at the shelter puts us at risk for adopting even more pets – we currently have six of various species – and that puppies do indeed have belly buttons. Who knew?
I’m also learning who’s really in charge. Once, as we headed out the back door for a walk with Bosco, a loveable Rottweiler puppy, Holly stopped short and gave me the “what for.” I’d apparently attached the leash to his collar and not to the “D” ring on his harness, as we’d been taught. Never mind that I’ve had my own big, harness-wearing pup for over three years and know what to do.
“You do realize that really, she’s supervising me, right?” I later confessed to Becky Wyatt, the shelter’s volunteer coordinator, as we watched Holly go about the business of cleaning a cage in the kitten room.
“If we had an army of 10-year-olds we’d be all set,” Wyatt replied. She’s not kidding. A few days later, Holly decided to fold the clean laundry strewn about my bedroom as I climbed into bed to nurse a cold. My industrious daughter was at it again and I was grateful.
“Come here so I can give you a hug,” I said, but Holly continued with her work. “I’ll give you three seconds to get over here,” I warned. “One, two, two-and-a-half,” I said to dramatic effect, but still, nothing. Nothing but an eye roll. “Seriously. Either you get over here and let me hug you or I give it to the dog.” Jake, whose big-red-dog body was stretched out beside me on my bed, was not amused and craned his head around to give me that woe is me look that only a golden retriever can give. “OK. This is a limited time offer, and then this particular hug will be gone forever. Going once, going twice ...” Holly suddenly jumped up from her heap of laundry.
“OK, sold!” she yelled, smacking the bed. “Give it to him,” she said with a grin, gesturing at Jake.
When the laundry was all folded she asked if we could go pitch in at the shelter again. Right that minute. I told her I was feeling crummy but that maybe, for her, I’d get up and we’d go.
“You’ll always feel better if you cuddle a kitten,” she replied. Oh, well then. Now where did I put my keys?
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If you or your child (children must be at least 10 years old and accompanied by an adult) would like to learn more about volunteering at the Naperville Area Humane Society, visit its website at napervillearea
humanesociety.org or call Becky Wyatt, volunteer coordinator, at 630-420-8989, ext. 113. Email Becky at bwyatt@napervilleareahumanesociety.org.
• Jennifer DuBose is a contributor for the Kane County Chronicle. She lives in Batavia with her husband, Todd, and their two children, Noah and Holly. She can be reached at jenniferdubose@msn.com.
