You Never Know

When I was growing up, Dad took every opportunity to teach us how we should conduct ourselves.  Our family ate out fairly often, and sometimes our server might be a little rude or inattentive.  When she’d leave the table, Dad would say, “Let’s not pass judgment on her.  We don’t know what might be going on in her life.  Someone she loves may have passed away; maybe her car broke down on the way to work.  Regardless of what may have happened, let’s be extra nice to her and maybe we can help her day get better.”

That lesson has played an important part in my life and has influenced the way I treat those who are rude, impatient, or seemingly uncaring.  But, being human, I have, on occasion, been the rude, arrogant, thoughtless one, and I’ve had to eat my share of crow.

I live in Alvord, Texas, a rural town of about a thousand, and we’re blessed to have a highway by-pass so the big trucks don’t have to drive through the center of our little town.   One day I was driving to my parents’ house and I was about to cross one of the bridges that goes over the by-pass when I saw a little orange and white Jack Russell terrier trot onto the bridge.

I slowed my car down to give the dog plenty of time and space to get across the two-lane bridge.  Suddenly, an 18-wheeler turned onto the bridge behind the little dog.  That dog took one look over her shoulder, trotted over to the concrete wall that ran the length of either side of the bridge, and hopped right over it.  I gasped.  I knew the dog had fallen at least 18 to 20 feet to the freeway below.  Fearing that the dog had fallen into the oncoming lanes of traffic, I swung my car over to the side of the service road, jumped out and ran down the embankment.

Luckily, the dog had fallen onto the shoulder of the road and wasn’t in danger of being hit, but she was lying on her side, shaking.  When I got close to her she tried to stand up, and it became obvious that she had hurt one of her front legs.  She let me pick her up and I was relieved to find that she had a dog tag with her name on it, as well as her owner’s phone number.

I got back in my car, put the little dog in the passenger seat, and immediately called the number.  A lady answered and I was so nervous from all the drama I just blurted out, “You don’t know me. I have your dog, Rosie.  She’s hurt.  She just jumped off the 1655 bridge and landed on the shoulder of the highway about 20 feet below.  Can I bring her to you?”

Silence.

“What do you want me to do with your dog?”

She said, “That’s not my dog.”

“Why does it have your phone number on its tag?”

“It used to be my dog,” she said.

“What do you want me to do with her?  She’s hurt, and needs medical attention.”

“I don’t know.  I can’t deal with that dog.”

The shock and horror of someone blowing off such a cute, sweet, and suffering dog that they had once owned hit me full force.  And with all the judgmental emphasis I could muster, I REACTED angrily and said, “You obviously don’t DESERVE to own a dog!”  And hung up the phone.

I drove the dog to my vet, told her to give her anything she needed, and I’d stop back in on my way home and decide what to do then.

My self-righteous self wasn’t back in my car five minutes until it started – that little voice….“Julie…you don’t know that woman.  You have no idea what she might be going through.  Who are you to pass judgment on her?  You better call her back …..you better call her up and apologize…..Julie????”

I resisted long enough to drive the hour to my folks’ house, have lunch with them and visit for awhile, but as soon as I was alone in my car again I knew it was useless to resist.  I was going to have to apologize; I might as well get it over with.  I pulled over and dialed her number.  When she answered I said in a rush, “Please don’t hang up.  I’m the lady who called you about the dog and I need to tell you how sorry I am that I spoke to you the way I did.  I don’t know you and I don’t know what might be going on in your life, but I have no right to judge you.  Can you forgive me?”

She said, “I’m so glad you called back.  I’ve been thinking all day what a jerk you must think I am.  When you called, I had a car full of little boys who had had a slumber party at my house the night before.  We were on the way to the hospital because my son was born with a medical condition that requires immediate treatment when it flares up, and he was having another episode.  I just couldn’t think of what I could do at that moment for Rosie.”

She went on to explain that her family lived in an area that had lots of traffic and major busy streets and that Rosie was an escape artist.  They had given her to the no-kill humane society with instructions to only give her to a home in the country because they were sure she’d get run over if she continued to live in the city.  They had done all they could to keep her in, but they simply couldn’t keep her safe.

Ultimately, we found Rosie’s new owners and her broken foot healed just fine.  But just think how my angry, judgmental words would have stayed in the mind of a woman who was already doing her best to do the right thing, a woman who had worries much greater than the situation at hand.

Dad’s teaching has served me well all of my life.  If you give others the benefit of the doubt, it will serve you well, too.