Thursday, April 18, 2024

"THE PAINFUL IMAGES OF RESCUES"

After the death of my longtime love, Sunday, finally after 1.5 years alone, I had the honor of inviting two RESCUES into my life. 

Lucy was the first. The 12 year old Mini Shnauzer was cast aside on the sidewalks of Long Beach with a 5 lb tumor tugging at her groin attemping to swallow up her small frame. Animal Rescue Mission stepped in, rescued her, sent her for surgery. 

Lucy with herculean strength, was able to lighten her load for a brief period, bask in the sun, inhale the fresh air, and heartily tip toe through life for another 6 weeks, until her fate came a knockin' with a Cancer reoccurance. 

Lucy trotted, no longer weighed down by illness, towards the Rainbow Bridge April 1st 2024.














Stuie, the second, a 6 yr old Mini Poodle was left behind blackened with filth, like a piece of trash in a vacated apartment in Watts----unknowingly, will leave my home today after nearly 7 weeks as a Foster to Adopt (ESA animal). Due to a fictitious complaint in my building that he barks all day while I work (part time).


In lieu of being banished to the streets myself for his "part time" barking offense---he will return to LOVED AGAIN PETS Rescue, hoping to find a furever home that has more than one person, and one more doggy to quell his fears and terror of being abandoned again. 



All these loving, happy, beautiful dogs and cats, once the joy of someone's life, become a burden to their person's hardened heart. And without thought, guilt or shame, throw them into the cement wilderness of urban life, confused, frightened and in shock. 

How can a vulnerable domesticated animal recover from this crime by the hand that once fed them and stroked their soft body?

We can't speak their language, and only surmise, how broken their minds or hearts have become. Only time, trust, love, understanding, compassion, empathy can hopefully wipe away a fragment of their suffering long enough for the hope to spring from their eyes again, and the joy spread itself across their smile, tickling their tail once again---to wag. 

If more people were "awake" to the fact a majority of humans are cruel, vicious, thoughtless, mean and violent to vulnerable domestic & wild animals---maybe, just maybe, they'd be justice and love of all living beings. 

Then you, would NOT have to close your eyes, or ignore, the plight of the innocent animals that are victimized hourly, and these creatures, happen to live beside us on this earth. 

We did not grow them like a plant. Their paws walked through our lands before "we" even knew this land existed. If you want to do something to prevent these types of posts.....then help by donating to reputable animal non profits, or adopt an unwanted, cast aside, abused pet.


---R. B. STUART

Thursday, March 14, 2024

"FROM FUR TO DUST"

Some say the Spirit vanishes when we die, the body means nothing. But, each of us have different ideas about death, dying & "the body" that represented "US" in life. 

After much contemplation, the body, was in fact, everything.


It housed our Spirit, and nourished every cell, muscle, organ and strand of hair, so that we "could" live on Earth.


Sunday's body, his face, his hair, his liquid brown eyes was the first image I fell in love with.
The furry body I clutched in my arms.
The heart that beat with mine.
The breath his lungs pumped minutes before my own exhaled.
The mind that pondered my alien human words.
The paws I washed hundreds of times.
The nails I clipped to a fine point.
The devoted eyes I wiped clean. 
The pink ears I plucked of hair so to hear my cooing better.
The K9 teeth I scraped, brushed, till ivory white.
His scent..it came from the body I was in love with, cherished, dedicatingly, painstakingly healed, groomed, nurtured, adored. 

His ashes are a tribute to that.
Honoring the remnants of the body he wore to kiss me, lick, eat, walk, jump, run & play through life.

All of it, was reduced to a sacred mound of dust. 
His dust. 
His Life. Sunday Jean.



---R. B. STUART XOXOX


Thursday, February 15, 2024

"LOVE IS NOT BLIND"

My best friend, protector,  companion, team mate, sleeping buddy, TV pal, dinner partner, Volvo riding Shot gun cohort, beach bum, flea bag, handsome fella, 4 legged gymnist, runner, with chicken legs and doggedly patience...has become blind at 16 years old. 

                                      SUNDAY, 2019

The cataracts cloud the sensitive, stirring brown eyes that laid upon my face every sunrise, and each twilight. Never to capture my expression again. 

May your mind remain vivid with images of me, the rains blessing your face, the wind  floating through your ears, salty ocean waves chasing your tail, the airplanes lighting up the sky, the arrogant squirrels that taunted you each day, and fields staking claim to your squeaky balls. 

May those pictures from your life keep you warm as you lay down beside me in the dark.

I Love You Sunday...Our life will never be the same. 
XOXOXOX

Thursday, January 18, 2024

"MY DOGGY, MY LOVER, MY FRIEND"


SUNDAY WAS MY BELOVED & MY FIRST TRUE LOVE.

ALMOST 20 YEARS TOGETHER JUST HE & I.

HE WAS THE MOST HANDSOME, DEVOTED, DUTIFUL, PATIENT & DETERMINED FRIEND, COMPANION, PARTNER, WITH STRONG CONVICTIONS & LOYALTY TO ME. 

HE WOULD FOLLOW ME TO THE EDGE OF THE EARTH, WHERE WATER MEETS THE HORIZON, OR TO THE CITY SIDEWALKS IF I WERE DOWN ON MY LUCK.

AS LONG HIS HIS EYES REST ON MINE...HE WAS CONTENT & AT HOME, FEELING SAFE & AT PEACE. 

HE WAS UNDETERRED,  AND UNSTOPPABLE TILL THE VERY END. 

HE WAS A MAJESTIC GIFT BORN UNTO MY HEART & LIFE.

HIS PRESENCE & AFFECT ON ME WILL BE TILL ENTERNITY.

THROUGH SICKNESS & HEALTH.

TILL DEATH DO US PART.

HE IS MY DOGGY, MY LOVER, MY FRIEND. 

I LOVE HIM SO XOXOX.


27.SEPTEMBER.2022

Thursday, December 21, 2023

"MY HEART DOG"

My Heart Dog, My Soul Dog, Sunday Jean died in my arms, 9/27/22, 19.5 years later, I wore the same orange sundress I held him in 2003, at 2 months old:




"I wrapped your silenced furry body in the 101 Dalmations towel I used to dry you with as a baby, and the towel you slept upon my chest for the last month.

Long gone are the days I'd poke & probe your eyes of mucus, wash your paws after a walk, or wipe your bum bum after poopy.

You can finally rest now....

Life isn't the same without you my devoted, handsome, Sunday. It was like you were my child. Now I have to reinvent myself, my daily life, my dinners, my routine, without you.

I stalled for 6 months in 2003 when Nanee asked if I wanted you. Your ears, flipped back reminded me of Cauliflower ears of a tough prize fighter, you resembled the legendary actor & tough guy, Edward G. Robinson. It was the first thing I loved about you & your small, soft, curly, orange body...

But, I was afraid to commit knowing I would love you & then eventually lose you to death. 

I conceded & opened my heart. Like the Grinch, the joy cracked my heart wide open. Holding & caressing you, and big bro BG, little sis Lilly, and nervous nellie, Jake that spring of 2003 was the most healing love bomb ever. 

I was encompassed by your cuteness, playfullness, zest for life & new experiences. And it filled me up. 

I was empty after losing my mother one year earlier. The grief & sorrow, pain & suffering that was stacked upon each other in my heart for nerely 35 years...thrust open like flood gates.

You encountered days, weeks months, of my sadness, sorrow, hopelessness, inner longing & torment....until it finally healed.

Your presence, by my side as the grief bubbled to the surface, my cries to God, you witnessed it all.

Now, I am at the part I feared most; the death, the sorrow, the loss...of Y O U.

The final last hours together, I bent over you in the kitchen, you were wedged between my calves so that I could hold you still while wiping your bum bum. 

Then you raised one front paw and placed it atop my right foot, then placed your right paw ontop of my left foot. It was peculiar, n e v e r  in 19.5 years had you done that before. 

I stepped back to wipe you further, and with your two paws on my 2 feet you walked with me.

Immediately, I sensed you would always be there, walking with me.

I scooped you up & sat on the futon with you sitting propped up on my knee facing me, and explained,

"You haven't met God yet, but you have 'through me', while I prayed during our walks, in bed at night next to me, and perched on the boulders together at the shore of Duck Walk Beach in Long Island.

For hours I'd sit upon the cold, hard stone, transfixed by the blue horizon in the distance, where the sea meets the sky, searching for God, my late mother, my father, my sister. The sun warmed our skin, the wind kissed our face, the salt licked our lips. You patiently stood beside me, looking out.

Then said, "Now, you will meet God too."

You raised your right paw & placed it on the middle of my chest, on my heart. I looked down at it, sensing it was another sign, you heard me, & understood.

You became agitated and wanted to get down. I put you on the floor and I walked to the bathroom.

Within minutes, you found me and pushed open the door with your nose & looked up at me.

I was surprised, even in the last moments your were still thinking about me, always wanted your eyes on me.

The doctor arrived. I placed you back in my arms, your face pressed against my breast. You stopped coughing. The agitation evaporated. Light as a feather, your neck & head limp like a rag doll. Then you were gone....

I made a ring with your ashes, so you'll always be in my hand....when I walk, when I drive, when I eat, when I cry."



25.October.2022

Thursday, November 23, 2023

"MY SOUL DOG"


My Beloved, Majestic One True Love Sunday Jean:

Marking the first two weeks without you by my side.

Crying every night reaching for the spot on the bed where I used to rest my hand on your back.

Weeping every morning not seeing you rustle around groggy while I prepare to leave for work. Giving you a scratch message to wake you up.

Hearing your teeth clink against the water bowl as you slurped up every drop.

Still saying goodbye to you...telling you I love you and watch the house for me. 

Blowing 3 kisses in the wind, which were meant for your soft face no longer pressing against mine.

I've been trying to continue walking our route every evening, able to make it through tonight without shedding a tear.

I sprinkled your ashes every block or two last week at your favorite marking spots....remembering you were at my heel every step, even though your arthritis made it a struggle as your life neared the final laps.

Always remember: Shy of 20 years, you were the most devoted, dutiful, determined dog, with strong convictions, extremely patient, attuned to me, adoring, conscientious, playful, smart, happy, protective, praise motivated, had unstoppable prey drive, boundless runner & agility, and a dedicated walker.

By age 2 you learned 30 words, were incredibly smart, perceptive, able to communicate with me with a glance of your emotional, brown eyes. 

At 16 lbs and much later 13 lbs, you were a real Tuffy. Whether a 190 lb man, or 70 lb German Shepherd, if you felt they were out of line you had no problem putting them in their place. You were unruly about it.

I am sorry that JR coming into my life in the last 4 years interfered with our union, and closeness. 
He was a bad man. 
You detected it early on, and expressed it up till the very end. 
I suffered. And so did you. For that I am truly sorry. 

The last 6 months was just you & me like old times. Sleeping on my chest. 

Being a baby and wanting me hand feeding you.

Wrapped in my arms we danced in the sunshine. 

Ate Pistachio ice cream, nibbled on peanut butter cups, drove with your head hanging out of the window.

Aahh....life was bittersweet...as I could see it ending.

I love you Fronky, Skittles, Lil Fella, Donkey, Cutie Canootie, SJ, PaPa and will never forget your pawprint on my heart.


Aunty xoxoxo


10.OCTOBER.2022

Thursday, May 4, 2017

“FROM ASIA WITH LOVE”

The Compassion Project
By R. B. STUART
                                      Pumpkin #23


For Visitors, Volunteers, Fosters and Adopters who graciously give their time and support to the Asian Rescues at The Animal Hope and Wellness Foundation. My hope is to assist you in understanding the trauma and torment of the Canine abuse survivors you love and care for. To not view, Marc Ching’s slaughterhouse pictures, the video’s or read his Facebook posts at least once, is to avoid their abuse, while ignoring their experiences. The below is meant to provide you with that missing link to their recovery and survival. To give you the scope necessary in order to understand their plight---fully,


The beautiful, innocent creatures rescued from Asia by Marc Ching and brought to America in the hopes of finding for the first time, a gentle hand, a compassionate heart, understanding, commitment and love in a fur-ever home---is our goal for them.   
The resilient, courageous slaughterhouse survivors of the Asian, Dog Meat Trade, are given another chance at life in a foreign land from which they were born, victimized and traumatized. Through the Grace of God and trust in Marc, they have survived extreme torture and abuse that the average human could never recover from---but “they” have. Although not all make a full recovery, nor ever make the journey to Los Angeles, so the Asian Dogs you’ll meet and share your homes with are the “lucky ones.” The others…too severe to survive, have returned to their creator on the wings of angels. Where they watch and protect their pack mates from above.     
I preface this in such a way, to bring awareness to those noble Souls who will commit their lives to an Asian Rescue from The Compassion Project, a Dog who may capture your heart, or who may sniff you out and desire to share their world---pleasing you. But getting there---will take work…
These are not average American domesticated Dogs or American Rescues who understand English, enjoy car rides, obey commands, retrieve a ball, jump to catch a Frisbee, swim in the brisk waves of the ocean, lick the ice cream off a child’s face, sit for a treat, or roam freely in a backyard---YET.
No, these Dogs are ultra-special, survivor’s from a war of sorts, with battle scars, some visible, some not. Experiencing the darkest of nights, shivering with fear, hungry, thirsty for affection, sleeping in bloody terror that worsens when they wake.   
They need empathy, guidance, patience, respect, unconditional love, understanding, limitations, boundaries, structure, rules, a strong pack leader with calm, assertive energy.
They don’t comprehend English, they don’t know basic commands, they have never been on a leash, they’ve never been on a walk, aren’t familiar with grass, blow dryers, stairs, bathtub’s, cars, fire hydrants, bicycles, tree’s, motorcycles, trucks, or screaming children. 
They are sensitive, psychologically scarred, emotionally damaged, some are insecure, some have the physical limitations of three limbs.
So if you feel you have the fortitude to enrich the life of an Asian Rescue, please keep the following in mind. And remember, their exposure to slaughterhouses wasn’t years ago---but merely weeks ago:
                                                            Maggie #24

§      They need a peaceful, safe, calm environment with their own special area for sleeping and feeding. Establishing routines and repetition is important (it takes 100 times for a dog to learn something).


§      Until they are acclimated to their new environment; they should not be left alone for hours in crates, cages, cars, apartments, locked in bathrooms, left in a fenced in backyard (chained or unchained), or near swimming pools.    


§      Until they respond to simple commands and feel secure in their new life, they may not be ready to socialize with other American domesticated pets who already know the drill. Avoid groups of people, parties, concerts, events, loud noises. Please don’t leave your Asian Rescue with family or friends while they are still learning their environment. As they may not be as sensitive to understanding the plight of a dog recovering from abuse.  


§      Never hit or scream at an abused dog to reprimand. They have experienced severe physical abuse and you want to gain their trust, not make them fear you. They were brought to America to never be exposed to pain and suffering again….not to have the pain and suffering continue.


§      They may be food or toy aggressive, as they’ve had to fight for food in the past, and have never had their own toys before. So be aware when feeding or playing. 


§      Don’t push yourself onto your Asian Rescue. Let them come to you and learn to trust you. If they’re hovering in a corner with a distant stare, or under a table, coax them out maybe with food, but never force them by pulling on a leash or collar, or pushing them into a crate, especially a fearful dog as its only way to protect themselves is by using their teeth. They are still recovering mentally from the stresses of what they saw, smelled, felt and tasted, just like a War Hero, so they may need the time to just sleep, rest and heal. Be peaceful, sit by them on the floor and read a book or the like…with enough dedication they’ll come to you when they sense you are not going to harm them. He/she may begin following you around the house or licking you, which is a good sign as they are bonding.    


§      Don’t overstimulate too quickly with brushing their coat, a message, a belly rub or constantly patting them, hugging them, prodding their bodies inspecting their eyes / ears / mouths / tail / toenails. Nor finger the incisions from their scars or surgeries. Let them heal from that experience of being torched, beaten, hung, boiled or amputated. Allow their body to recover from the numbness of beatings, to enjoy a soft hand. With amputated dogs, they’ll need to relearn how to walk on three legs, and strengthen their muscles to do so. Their balance is altered. Let them learn how to recalibrate their body with a missing limb. They are struggling too, and trying to adapt in a new world. 


§      Have plenty of patience with house breaking. The Asian Rescue was never taught about going to the bathroom on newspaper, a wee-wee pad, or grass. Asian Rescues aren’t accustomed to walking on grass, so it may take some time for them to realize that’s where they’re supposed to “GO.” Carpeting has the same feel under their paws as grass, so you must teach them the difference. Until you’re certain they’ve learned how to hold-it and go the bathroom outside, leave newspaper / wee-wee pads on the bathroom floor, or somewhere away from their food.   


§     Many may “hold it” during a walk, but go to the bathroom when they come back in. So bring treats outside with you, and when they go to the bathroom outside praise them “good pee-pee or good poopy” and give them a treat. Create a word and use it consistently so they can learn that the word is associated with going to the bathroom outside---I use the word OUTSIDE! when I grab his harness and leash. Take them out when they first wake, throughout the day, before bed, especially after a meal within 15 minutes or so. A dog should urinate once for every hour it has held it while in the house. If your dog’s been holding it for 4 hours, then expect him to pee 4 times when he’s out. 6 hours / 6 times and so on. But never let your dog hold it for more than 10 hours as it affects the kidneys. You’ll need to create a solid routine by taking him/her out so they’ll understand what you want. Eventually he’ll learn “to wait”  / “hold-it.”   
  

§     The Asian Rescue may be afraid of unusual sounds or items that they aren’t familiar with: plastic bags, statues, people - men or women, children, people wearing hats, other dogs, cats, slippery wood floors, being bathed, the car, wind from a car window, sound of siren’s, a smoke alarm, an alarm clock, the ring of a cell phone, the ticking of a toaster oven timer, the television screen sights/sounds, doorbell, knock at the door, rain, thunderstorms. So always be prepared and be cautious while they learn a new environment, it’s different from the prison walls and cement they know so well.   
                                                              Dalilah  #25

There are a select few Asian Rescues that have adjusted to their new American life quickly, while others need a longer recovery time. You will need enormous patience, And please don’t give up and leave them isolated in a room, crate, or yard, or give them away to a shelter because it was too difficult. That wasn’t the future Marc promised them.  
So spend time with them at the AHWF center, walk them, sit with them, take them home for a day, a night, a weekend or two, or three before you commit to adopt. Take turns with different dogs to be absolutely sure. They may be timid, skittish, outgoing or aggressive at first, but after your dedication, training, gentle hand, understanding and love, good food, clean water, and walks will build their self-esteem---you’ll see them transform into a gentle, smart, balanced, happy, friendly and well behaved pet. Eventually as you develop a healthy bond, smiles will appear on their face, a tail will wag when they see you. The play time, cuddling and belly rubs you’ve always wanted will be yours…as you have nurtured your Asian Rescue into a domesticated American dog---a loyal companion---and fur-ever friend.   
                                                             Molly  #26 
                                    

     With Love and Gratitude       ----From a Fellow Abuse Survivor, R. B. STUART
© COPYRIGHT 2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO REPRODUCTION WITHOUT PERMISSION

                                                  STUART ROAD MEDIA

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

I SEE YOU...Clyde

Guest Writer
The PetStaurant
The Animal Hope & Wellness Foundation
Sherman Oaks, CA.
Founder, Marc Ching:  


Clyde #13



My name is Clyde,

I am from a torture chamber in Tangshan China. I had a brother that died in emergency from dismemberment, and a sister that was boiled alive.

While hospitalized, I almost died from a parvo outbreak in the vet due to the poor care of my administering hospital. My journey and the great lengths I pushed through to survive and make it to America - unspeakable.

I am a torture chamber survivor.

From a place so dark that after witnessing the ways dogs like me are tormented, Marc's translator became suicidal trying to take his own life. In my short time here on Earth, I have lived both day and night with my flesh muffled in the screams of those that stood tortured before me.

Today was a victory for the man I call my savior. Today was a victory for the man who risked his life to pull from the red sea beneath, to pull from a place where once a dog enters, they never leave.

I am an American now. A holocaust survivor. And just being able to hold those words deep inside me. Just being able to breathe free air has become this immense sigh of relief. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to be in this country.

I am in a land where a dog like me has a future. Where my story and the place my feet have pressed upon - that I will become a voice to all those who lost their life before me.

My name is Clyde, and I am an Animal Hope and Wellness Foundation miracle. Yesterday when Marc held me in his arms. Yesterday when Marc pulled my flesh close to his crumbling heart - tears pushed through the pores of his skin in the same way that his soul had been stolen.

The only difference this time, each droplet was a poem that fell off me from the sky. A thousand silent words - signifying a thousand dying cries. The words breathed into me at the moment of my liberation, they will forever be a part of me.

 "Let me lead you out of darkness... Believe."

 
 
Rescued Dec. 2015 from a Dog Meat Slaughterhouse in Tangshan China - Marc Ching from The Animal Hope and Wellness Foundation saved Clyde and over 200 other dogs like him from near death situations.

With the help of Shannon Keith from ARME, Clyde landed at Los Angeles International Airport yesterday, one of eleven dogs that became Americans.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

I SEE YOU...Violet

Guest Writer
The PetStaurant
The Animal Hope & Wellness Foundation 
Sherman Oaks, CA.
Founder, Marc Ching:  


Violet #14


My name is Violet,

 

I am an abuse survivor that was rescued by Marc Ching and the Animal Hope and Wellness Foundation approximately three months ago in Los Angeles.

 

My former owner tied me by my leash to his bike, and being dragged on concrete ripped much of the skin off of my body. Because of my injuries, my dermis became severely infected with bacteria and fungi, and I almost died. Since then I have been in The Animal Hope Wellness Foundation's rehab program.

 

Coming from a life of abuse and a situation that I had to be so enduring of, I wondered if I would ever live a life free of persecution. Why people look to hurt animals, why people seek to hurt the innocent - I cannot tell you. All I can say is that I am here waiting to find my place in the world. That I have had to be so enduring of darkness, and so patient waiting to find the one thing everyone one in the world so desperately searches to find - Love.

 

I am fully rehabbed and healthy - ready to be rehomed. My name is Violet, and I am an animal cruelty survivor. Mom and Dad, be the gift of love that I need to piece me back together. Be the breath within my lungs that pulls together the heart that remains shattered.

 

Mom and Dad, come for me...

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

I SEE YOU....Holly

Guest Writer
The Animal Hope & Wellness Foundation
The PetStaurant

FB - The Animal Hope & Wellness Foundation 
Sherman Oaks, CA.
Founder, Marc Ching:


The Compassion Rescue Mission     

                                            
                               Survivor: Holly #22 - Seeks a Home in June 2016 



"I aged a lot in these last five months. When I stare at my face, I barely recognize the skin that I was born to.

When I lift my hands to catch tears that dry into the earth, I barely remember what it is like to feel my face. To press my flesh against your lips. To breathe in moments. To have my mouth consume your sweat.

We die trying to find ourselves. Die - in the same blade that cuts bone from skin. I cannot see straight. I cannot think. But I know in the end, I cannot give up on them. I have come too far. Sacrificed too much.

This morning when I woke, I decided one last trip. A final break into the abyss. Into blood that divides and pulls from the night, words that have no definition or end.

There is no way for me to describe, the toll this has taken on both my soul and my heart. At night sometimes, I sit alone in the dark. My hands at war with shadows my fingers animate. The way we prod. The way we use silhouettes. The way I think I deserve to die in torment.
 
I remember the lives lost. I remember the mouths I could not save. And no matter what I do, I know you cannot change it. I know we cannot go back into time. I know we cannot unbirth death.


My last stand. June 2016. The final breath. My peak into the sky. The breaking of the horizon and my mouth into the dying. After this, there will be nothing left. No name. No face. But with the one life I live, if who I am can save them.

 
History. Fucking history.
 
(The dog in this picture, I named her Holly. A survivor of one of the most extreme torture and cruelty situations. I will bring her back with me in June 2016. Where she will live as a symbol - of how light overcomes darkness. Destiny.)"   ###Marc Ching

 
 
In the eight months that I've known Marc, I have forced myself to glimpse the razors edge of his first hand experiences of horrifying, barbaric, heartbreaking torture of our beloved Dogs---through the visual account from his journey's of the underworld of slaughterhouses in Asia. I can no longer turn a blind eye or deaf ear---if all he asks in return is awareness. While he is blanketed by the numbness of suffering, muffled screams, splatters of blood---the agony brought about by meat cleavers that not only penetrate the bones of these defenseless, beautiful forgiving creatures--but reach the marrow of their Souls.

If he can stand stoically in his conviction, like a Viking on the battlefields, and not ask anything from us except to view what he has absorbed in his flesh, drank with his eyes, and sacrificed his heart and psyche for---the sites and sounds glued to him, the muck of darkness and devastation, the mire of evil that haunts him hours, days, weeks after he comes home. 

If he can withstand that, even though his heart remains raw, his knees wobbling---then "I can" look, watch, see, hear, cry, obsess over the images, their furry bodies, their innocent faces, their hollow eyes as death hovers over them---with the same love that Marc has---that propels him forward to recue the ones stolen in the night, awaiting for someone, anyone to find them and bring them.....home.  ---R .B. Stuart