The anniversary of September 11th has come and gone. Ten years ago, when the two towers fell I was at home looking for a job. I had recently graduated from UNT. I was 22, newly single and driving a Mercury Villager minivan. I know what you’re thinking, driving a minivan is hot. Well, you are wrong. It is not, but just like a squirrel in the suburbs...you adapt. I remember watching the news coverage and how my brain could not fathom that it was real. I recall being grateful that I was safe, sheltered at my parents house and not in New York City. My heart did feel compassion for my fellow Americans though. Pain and death are a part of life, but it is staggering to witness on such a large scale, and so abruptly. Sometimes I will hear people talk about their complaints or grievances about life. My response is usually, “Hey, at least you are not a polar bear. They are dying. One mother bear swam nonstop for nine days on her search for food, her cub died and she lost 100 pounds. How would you like to switch your problems for hers?” One of my favorite writers is Annie Dillard, she wrote, “We are morale creatures living in an immoral world.” We always react with shock and alarm when we feel we have been wronged. I feel it is important to stay positive, even though deep down... I expect to be thrown under the bus or eaten by a pack of wild chinchillas. Yesterday, I visited the kind of environment that a respectable chinchilla might call home. I’ve been interested in learning more about search and rescue teams for a while. A local K-9 search and rescue team allowed me to visit one of their training sessions. I have a lot of respect for the rigorous training that canines and their handlers go through. I pulled up in my tiny marshmallow car at this remote location. Every inch of my bod was covered by dark fabric. Even though I was excited to be there, I did not want to take any of that experience home with me (like in the form of a tick or snake bite). I was wearing my royal blue Mavericks NBA champions T shirt so I stuck out amongst this sea of orange. When I got out of my car, I walked over to this gathering. A group of about 30 retired people, with receding hair lines and limited hearing stood around in orange T shirts, safari pants and severe, knee length black boots. They all had hats on and were constantly wiping the sweat off their faces. Nothing about this experience was glamorous. I observed the training of air scent, trailing, tracking and HR dogs. When I hear HR my mind goes to human resources, but in this context, HR means human remains. When each dog finds their target they are rewarded: trailing and tracking dogs get an edible treat, while HR and air scent dogs get a to play with a much-loved toy. I was surrounded by “dog people” yet I was the only one that is a certified chihuahua handler. My least favorite part of the experience was time spent in the woods. I had to push prickly branches out of my face, crouch down under tree limbs, be alert to where I was stepping and keep up with the pace of this air scent team. At one point, one of the team members a sweaty, burly man looked at me and said, “You are not allergic to poison ivy are you?” I said, “I don’t think so, but I would prefer to avoid the plant.” He moved his arm in a wide circle and said, “all this is poison ivy.” A couple of minutes later lightning was visible in a distant part of the sky, so we aborted our mission. We returned to base. I got some friendly advice on poison ivy before I left. The woman asked about how I liked training. I confessed, “I don’t really like the woods.” She said, “Well, this might not be for you then. When you go through training you are in the woods for 8 months.” I drove off, proud that I tried it, but determined never to go again. At home, as advised, I washed my clothes and took a cold shower. Hopefully, I won’t experience any itchiness. I’m just not cut out to be a search and rescue person.
