A little over a year ago my town became plastered over and completely covered up by Lost Dog posters for a little Chihuahua named Minnie. On every available lamp post, stoplight, bulletin board and penny saver was the same picture of little Minnie. She had tan fur, big eyes, and lay submissively on her back, paws resting gently on her chest, as if patiently awaiting a nice belly rub. There was a $5,000 dollar reward for Minnie's safe return. Clearly, she was very, very missed.
Being an avid dog lover, and possessing what some might call an unnatural attachment to my own dog, I thought nothing strange in the behavior of Minnie's family. However, when I was driving down the road and saw a sign-waver standing on a street corner shaking a poster board with Minnie's missing ad printed on it, I was a little overwhelmed, and even more so when on another day I saw a truck driving down the street with a billboard of Minnie's lost poster sitting in the back of it. Maybe, just maybe I thought, this was a bit much. Time went on, and still the sign shaker could be found standing on that street corner, a little less enthusiastic every day. The lost dog signs on the lamp posts and stop lights had all faded or been weathered away completely, and all the community bulletin boards had taken Minnie down completely.
I tend to be a person of faith. Not strictly or souly in a religious sense, just in a hopeful, optimistic sort of way. At first I was hopeful that Minnie would find her family again. She had to be the most recognizable Chihuahua Simi Valley had ever seen. But she was a little dog, lost in a town filled with speeding cars and lots of people, smack in the middle of the hills which are home to hungry hungry coyotes and the occasional mountain lion. As time went on, my faith in Minnie's safe return extinguished quite entirely. Her family must have lost faith too, or so it seemed, because one day, the sign-waver wasn't on that street corner anymore.
And a year or so passed.
And then, for whatever reason, he was back. The sign-waver on the corner. Standing there with Minnie's picture and offering the $5,000 reward for her safe return. And rather than being happy that they, unlike myself, still had the impossible notion of hope, I became furious. I thought them stupid, and insane, and I'm ashamed to admit, a bit pathetic. Alone in my car I yelled out loud, "Give it up! Minnie is Dead. And if by some miracle some other family has her, and she's not dead, they sure as hell aren't giving her back."
In my deepest heart of hearts I believe that Minnie is a lost cause. And I don't have faith that they will find her. But I marvel at the notion that there are people out there that believe in anything so strongly that they will continue to do everything within their power to see it through. I've always been a bit of a quitter. I've never had that kind of perseverance, and I envy it a little, although I still think they're crazy. But a little crazy isn't always a bad thing. And regardless of how stupid I think spending all that money on their lost dog is, it just goes to show how deeply certain things certain people certain pets, Can burrow their way past all of our guards and all of our defenses and into our hearts, leaving us irrevocably changed just by knowing them.
Even though the windows were rolled up and they didn't hear me, I'm sorry, Minnie Sign Waver guy. I am sorry for my lack of faith. I look at lost dog signs differently now. I pay a little more attention. I think of the family that worries over them, and wonder about them. And I wonder if any of them are found ever, or if their families are always waiting for them to come home. Maybe next to finding Minnie, the most important thing for this family is that they prove through all of this, that they haven't forgotten her. Because forgetting something, and losing something can in someways be just as painful.
I know it seems like this is just about some random person's lost dog, but its not. Its about more than that. Its the principle behinde famiy, and loving someone, and that's that you don't give up on them, and you can't forget them, because they become a part of you. And I know, I know, its a little dog, and some of you won't understand that.
And we don't necessarily care about Minnie because she's not Our family. But clearly she was family to someone. And that makes her important. That little lost Chihuahua from a year ago is still important to someone. So remember that the next time you are questioning your own self worth. Chances are, you're probably important to someone too, and even when your faith is waivering in yourself, chances are there is someone out there, who hasn't forgotten you, and to them you are worth remembering.
