The Joy of Doing Right: The Story of Ray the Dog

Yesterday, I was thumbing through my diary, reading old entries, when I happened across one from last August that made me feel happy, uplifted, inspired--and a little sad, all at once. I can't quite shake the feeling that I am somehow exploiting the poor little guy, but I think the entry I wrote last year about Ray the dog is one that imparts an important and oft-forgotten lesson. Here it is, as written on August 29, 2013.

"Today, one of my fellow RAL volunteers texted me to let me know that Ray passed away. Ray was a little blondish chihuahua. Despite an intimidating looking head tilt, Ray was adopted after only my first encounter with him. I think his adoption was already pending when I met him, a huge comfort to me, because I otherwise would have worried if he'd be able to find a home; his head tilt could appear so off-putting to potential adopters.

"This was my experience with Ray: He was in an upper crate, as the little dogs always are. When I peered in at him, I noticed that not only had he soiled his linens, but that his head tilt so affected his balance, he'd also fallen into the excrement, and it was matted in his fur. I couldn't leave him like that. It was so humiliating for the poor little guy. So I scooped him out, got him clean linens, and gave him a bath.

"Although Ray was small, quiet, gentle, and not very mobile, the bath was an ordeal for both of us; his head tilt caused him to have trouble standing. But he never complained. He just patiently let me clean him up.

"We should take advantage of every single chance we get to be loving, kind, and good--to do the right thing. We will never, ever regret the good things we did, but we may very likely regret the good things we knew we could do, but did not."

"I've thought about Ray several times since that night. I teared up this afternoon when I learned of his passing--even though I knew that night at RAL that he would soon be adopted and I wouldn't see him again, regardless.

"Aside from my sadness, I felt very glad that I'd helped Ray--that I'd made that one night a little more comfortable for him. I could've overlooked his predicament, but I didn't. I helped and I'm glad I did. After that thought of gratitude occurred to me, this insight followed. It may sound cliche, a nice platitude, but I really felt it. It means something. It's not just words. This is what it was: We should take advantage of every single chance we get to be loving, kind, and good--to do the right thing. We will never, ever regret the good things we did, but we may very likely regret the good things we knew we could do, but did not.

"Maybe if my fellow volunteer had not seen the attention I paid to Ray, I wouldn't even know he'd passed away, and maybe if I hadn't taken the time with him, I wouldn't care much either. But I would've missed out on the chance to express love. And if I'd known of his predicament, not helped, and knew he'd died, I'd probably feel pretty guilty for not having done him the small kindness of bathing him and getting him clean towels.

"Ray's gone, but I feel blessed to have helped him. That right, good, loving decision made me a better person. With each right decision we make, we become better people, we bring more good to the world."