Dog shelters could quite possibly be the most saddening places one could visit. Some shelters are nicer than others, but all in all they usually consist of a whole lot of yelping dogs who have been abandoned, lost, or given away. When one walks down the aisle of kennels, either you see the pups jumping on the door to their cages craving any bit of your attention, or you see the dogs who merely stare up at you with their soulful puppy eyes just long enough to make your heart break into a million pieces. Regardless of what the dog is doing, they all have a common single hope: that you will be the one to take them for a walk.
This is what turns the dog shelter visit into a positive one: knowing that you can make a difference in that innocent soul’s day by merely taking them for a walk (or sprint) to any place but that noisy kennel. BARK shelter does a great job at giving all of the dogs a chance to be outside at least once a day in order to clean their cages, but it is up to the volunteers to give them all walks. More than half of the volunteer group that day comprised of Mark, CJ, Lauren Zelek, Sarah Friday, and me, and together we were able to walk all of the dogs in less than four hours. You all should come next time and we could be able to give all of the dogs two walks, because they deserve it.
Really though, getting to D-Hall lot by 10:30 on a Sunday morning was a small price to pay for the lovely feeling of having the company of a dog on a trail in the woods. I stand firmly by my point I made in book club: that a dog would be the best thing to bring on a trip into the backcountry besides the necessities to survive. A dogs company on a walk, especially that of a shelter dog, consists of pure, contagious joy. The excitement that the dogs exerted when they caught a glimpse of the open air instantly transferred over to me, even when it was my fifth time walking that same trail.
The purity of the dogs’ souls was most definitely what made the joy so contagious. The pups padding around the trail, sniffing at scents that I have no way of smelling and hearing acute noises that go completely over my head remind me of the things I overlook when I am outside. It brought to my attention the entertainment of merely being in the outdoors: the sounds I forget to listen to, the smells that I breathe in and out without paying attention to, and the feeling of the fresh breeze in my hair as I sprint out of control as I’m dragged by a leash on the woodsy trail. BARK’s expanse of land is impressive; it is a mix of open fields and natural-growth forest that me and my dogs would romp around in. Witnessing the dogs in action on this land brought me back once again to my “nature mindset”; where I am wholly content to just simply be outside, with a dog, romping around in the woods. Nothing else is on my mind.