Bittersweet revolving door

One of the things any employee or volunteer at an animal shelter has to adapt to is getting attached to an animal and then watching it go on its way to a new life once it has been adopted. It hurts to know that you'll probably never see an animal you've invested so much of your time, heart and soul in again. The consolation, of course, is that it's on to a better, less stressful life.

Since Chelsea and I started doing pet therapy at Syl Apps last summer we've had the same three youths in the program. This week two of them were discharged. One is off to an assisted living/halfway house type arrangement in Toronto that specializes in kids with schizophrenia. Actually they specialize in people who "hear voices". People can't be diagnosed with schizophrenia until they reach a certain age. I really, really hope that our young friend will flourish in this environment and enjoy a better quality of life.

Our other young friend however, is leaving Syl Apps to go to a typical prison. The prison if fairly new, it's in Brampton, and by all media accounts it got off to a very rocky start. I know what our young friend's conviction is, and the circumstances surrounding it. As well as anyone on the peripheral of her life can, anyway. I also know how creative, bright, and sensitive she is. I can't help but worry about her, how she'll adapt, whether this will set her back in her mental health recovery.

But I know that I have to let go of my young friends the way I've learned to let go of dogs I've worked with and loved at the shelter. I'm in their lives for a finite amount of time and once that time is over I need to devote myself to the dogs, or in this case youths, who will take their places. One of the key principles of Buddhism is that everything is finite, temporary. This bittersweet revolving door is a good reminder of that, and a good reminder to put my heart and energy where they'll make a difference today.