James Bass: Spring brings new hope

With spring comes new hope and renewed faith. But sometimes, it is through the lens of sadness and loss in which that light shines upon us. Something happened to me earlier this year that taught me this lesson.

I lost my dog less than two weeks into the new year. I’m still sad about the loss, and while recently planting some flowers in a small remembrance garden, I was reminded of something good that came from this experience. Something that, with spring, renewed my faith in the goodness of people.

I was away on a business trip in January when my daughter called, in hysterics, to report that my dog had escaped the backyard and been struck and killed by a car. Ozzy was part beagle, always trailing a scent, and ever the escape artist. I cannot count how many creative ways he found to get out of our fenced backyard. A few times I had to bait him to figure out just how he did it, each time sealing off a new escape route.

As fate would have it, the morning I left, he found a new place, and I presume, went out looking for me. The last time I saw him was when he jumped in the car, thinking he’d go with me to the airport. I told him he couldn’t go, but I’d see him soon. Sadly, I never did.

It wasn’t long after I had checked into my hotel room when the call from my daughter came. She had gone out searching for him, as she’d done in times past, and a man on the street, hearing her calling for our lost dog, got her attention. When she showed him a picture of Ozzy, he frowned and said, “I’m sorry.” Unfortunately, he had found him, but it was too late.

I wouldn’t have known what to do if I had been there. I would have been the one to retrieve his lifeless body and bury him. I could have done it, but I don’t know how. As it happens, the man who found him, wrapped him in a tarp, and offered to bury him for us. He only identified himself, coincidentally, as “James.” Here I was miles away, still in shock, sad, helpless, and indebted to this stranger.

My daughter got his phone number and when I had a chance, I reached out to say thank you, the least I could do. A few weeks later, James returned to my house with a gift. He’d made a headstone for my dog. It was still winter and cold, so I put the stone away until a warmer day would allow me to place it properly in the flower garden I planned. I thanked James for his special gift, and he modestly responded that it was the least he could do because he couldn’t bear to see my daughter in tears. James said he and his wife rescued dogs and they were passionate about them.

I shared a version of this story on my Facebook right after it happened, but the time that passed hasn’t softened my gratitude for James and his ultimately kind gesture. But as I cleared a spot for the memorial, planted flowers, and put out his stone, I couldn’t help but to be reminded of what a beautiful act of kindness this man had made.

James restored my faith that good people exist and that there are silver linings in even the saddest events. When I needed someone the most, the universe delivered the right person. As the days grow warmer, the flowers begin to blossom, and the beauty of spring unfolds, I hope we are all reminded that better days await, tough times don’t last, and there are still good people in the world.

I believe life teaches us lessons in the most unconventional ways. Rarely on our terms, and always in ways that are to be revealed in time, hardly ever in the moment. I will miss my little buddy, I’ll never forget James and his act of kindness, and I believe that despite the tragedy I am richer for the experience. I, too, hope spring brings you renewed hope and faith in humanity.