My Name is Ashley

Nearly 2 years ago, I wrote the following words:
 "My name is Ashley, and I am an animal rescuer."

It was the very first sentence ever written on Lucky Dog Rescue Blog. It was my opening line... my introduction... my beginning... 

It was the sentence that would inevitably define my blog... and my life.

Well, actually... that sentence defined my life, long-before this blog ever existed. I've always been "Ashley" (duh), and I've always been an "animal rescuer." That's just who I am.

But... while I do always feel like an "animal rescuer," I have to be honest:
Sometimes... I don't feel much like "Ashley" anymore. 
You know... the "Ashley" who is more than just an animal rescuer. The "Ashley" who has a life, family, and friends outside of animal rescue. The "Ashley" who has needs, wants, and dreams of her own, in addition to her passion for animal rescue.

And sometimes, I miss her. You know... that "Ashley." I know others miss her, too.

However, that's not to say that I don't love what I do. Because I do. 
Or that I'm not living my dream, and fulfilling my purpose. Because I am. 

But it's hard, sometimes... Life, I mean. 
And not just for me, but for all of us. That goes for others involved in animal rescue, and for everyone else, in general. No matter who you are, where you live, or what you do in life, you've probably felt this way, at some point in time. 

You've probably "missed" the person you were, or the person you are, or the person you would/could/should be. 
The "you" who exists outside of work, responsibilities, and stress.
The "you" who exists... inside of you.

While I realize that I am still "Ashley" (duh) ... and therefore, "Ashley" hasn't left me... I just need to remember that my life is every bit as important... as all the lives I wish to save. They need me... and I need me, too.

I guess what I'm saying is: at times, we all feel "not like ourselves," for a million different reasons, but mostly because we need to be reminded that we matter, each of us, as individuals. I matter; YOU matter.

Therefore, we need to find balance ... between ourselves, and everything else in our lives. For me, "balance" is something I seem to have at times... and lose at times. Kinda like how I seem to find and lose my own sense-of-self at times. 

So... long story short... today, in an attempt to feel more like "Ashley" again, I did something I haven't done in a while now... something that always manages to make me feel like "me" again:

I sat down... and I wrote.

And for whatever reason, you read it. Thank you.
Love,
Ashley

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Friends

Often... at our lowest points, a good friend is all we need.

We need their love to ease our pain.
We need their encouragement to relieve our worry.
We need their compassion to mend our hearts.

We need their comfort; we need their empathy.
We need their respect; we need their loyalty.
We need their advice; we need their honesty.

We need their humor, when we've lost our laughter.
We need their hugs, when we've lost our smile.
We need their perspective, when we've lost our way.

A good friend can make it okay.
A good friend can make it better.
A good friend can make it worth it.

I've been blessed with the most wonderful, amazing, incredible friends. Loyal, honest, true friends. Real friends. Lifelong friends. The very best friends I could ever ask for.

Me & Savannah

Friends that cry with me.
Friends that laugh with me.
Friends that love me through it all.

Friends that always celebrate my successes.
Friends that never delight in my failures.
Friends that inspire me to be a better me.

I'm so lucky to have such incredible friends in my life.
They are my sisters, my cheerleaders, my advisors.
My family, my sanity, my lifelines.

My best friends are always there to remind me of who I am... and why I matter. 
To push me forward, when I want to quit.
To act ridiculous, when I need to laugh.
To drink a beer, when I need to chill.
To lend their wisdom, when I need advice.

Kelt, Tiff, Me, Anna, Jess

Many of my best friends have known (and loved) me for more than 20 years of my life. We've truly been through everything together... love and loss... joy and pain... smiles and tears. I know everything about them... they know everything about me. They've seen me at my highest highs, and lowest lows. They've cheered me on... they've picked up pieces. And I've been honored to do the same for them.

Without these girls... I would be nothing.



Others came into my life in more recent years... and quickly became my family. These people have changed my life in the best ways, proving to me --time and time again-- that I can count on them for anything. To be honest, each showed up... at the exact moment that I needed them.

Without these friends, I would just crumble.

Me, Kelt, Jess, Anna

At one point or another, each of my friends has saved me in some way, both literally and figuratively...

On April 10, 2003, my best friend, Jessica, saved my life -- literally. If not for her, I honestly wouldn't be alive today. That's a damn good friend right there.

Me & Pippa

My BFF, Caycee, saves my ass on a daily basis. My sidekick, Chris, rescues me often, and my mentor, Pippa, always keeps me going. My best friends Tiff, Kelt, Savannah, Meagan, Anna, Laura, Dana, Maygen, Mary Ann, Katie P, Mary Frances, Lauren, Kim, Emily, AKC, Cathy, Hart, Sally, Adrian, Carla, Melissa, Kelley, Michelle S., Elsie, Rina, Amy, Maria, Catie, Jodie, Kirk (and on and on and on) have all saved me.

Each of my incredible friends has shaped me, changed me, and saved me in some way. Each has played a role in making my life whole... in making me whole.

Without them... nothing would be worth it.
Because of them... everything is.

To each of you (you know who you are), thank you for being the kind of friends who make my life worth living. Thank you for loving me, believing in me, and inspiring me. Thank you for being there, each and every time I need you.

I love y'all... more than words could ever say... more than you could ever know.

You are me... and I am you.
We are each other, because we are best friends.
Love,
Ash

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My Mom

*For whatever reason, my scanner isn't working today... so I haven't been able to upload all of the pictures for this post yet. I promise I'll add them as soon as I can.

Today is my mother's birthday. That's right, my mom's a Leap Year baby.

In the past, I've written a couple of blog posts about my family... a special Father's Day post for my dad, a wedding day post for my little brother, and of course, the tributes to my grandparents following their Christmas day accident.

In each of those blogs, I included little bits of information about my mother. But, up to this point, I really haven't shared that much about her.

That may seem odd... as if I'm neglecting my mom, or placing the rest of my family above my mom, or just have nothing good to say about my mom. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

To be honest... over the last year, I've made several attempts to write something about my mom. Today is just the first time I clicked Publish.

But why?? Doesn't make much sense, does it? If she's as wonderful as I say she is, then why can't I just write about her??

Well... it's hard to explain, but here's the deal: when I try to find the right words to describe my mother... I fail -miserably. Every single time.

I'm sure that today will be no different. I'm sure I won't do her justice. I'm sure it'll seem as if I just threw some crap together, in some half-assed "Happy Birthday" attempt.

Regardless, I'm going to try anyway, because my mom deserves to have a special post written about her. She means everything to me, more than I could ever put into words... and more than she could ever know...

So... here goes. I'd like to introduce you to the woman I call "Mom." 

My mother is --hands-down-- the most giving, selfless person I know. She is loving. She is patient. She is kind. 

She's honest, loyal, and sincere. She's compassionate, understanding, and forgiving. She's nurturing, thoughtful, and generous. She's wise, humble, and inspiring.

She's the kind of mom that everyone wishes they had... but very few people get. The kind of mom that makes everything okay... just because she's your mom. The kind of mom who was born to be a mom... to be my mom. 

And the kind of mom that I certainly don't deserve.

Even now... as I write these words... I can feel that I'm failing again. My mom is so much more than this...

She's more than just an amazing mom... she's an incredible human being. She gives everything to everyone else, and takes nothing for herself. She needs no credit... and asks for nothing in return. While she doesn't have to do these things, she chooses to do them anyway. If it's the right thing to do, then my mom is going to do it. Honestly... that's just the kind of person she is...  

Mom has the rare ability to see the good in every person, and in every situation. She's level-headed and realistic, but positive and optimistic. When the world turns upside down, my mom still sees the light. And even though she may sometimes worry...  I swear you'd never know it. In her heart, she truly believes that everything will be okay.
And even in your darkest moments... she'll make you believe the same.

Maybe I was gifted with some of her best traits, but my mom still blows me out of the water. I've only become the person I am today... because my mom taught me how to be that way. But no matter how hard I may try... I could never compare to the genuine goodness that pours from my mother's heart. She's the very best person I know... and anyone who knows her would agree with me.

Beyond that, she's an equally amazing mom. My mom is one of those all-knowing moms, but not in a "know-it-all" kind of way. Instead, she just knows stuff... in a non-threatening, non-showy kind of way. She knows how to be a mom, she knows her kids, and somehow, she knows pretty much everything else. If she doesn't know... she finds out. And then, guess what? Now, Mom knows that, too.

With any question, my mom has the right answer. With every issue... she's got the solution. Anytime I ask for help, my mom is right there to help me. She's always there to guide me... but she doesn't force the issue. She'll never promise to be right, and she'll never say, "I told you so..."

But... in the end... she did tell me so, and she was right. Sure, I can doubt her. I can challenge her. I can try to prove her wrong. But my mom knows stuff, and without her even trying to be, she's always freaking right.

While she doesn't want me to learn the hard way, she knows it's going to happen. So... she simply lends me her wisdom... but allows me make my own decisions, and my own mistakes.

When I don't take her advice, she's not mad, or disappointed, or frustrated with me. Instead, she supports me... whether she agrees with me or not. And then... when I fall, she's there for me... to help me pick up the pieces... to guide me back to where she tried to send me in the first place. 

Now that I think about it... it's actually pretty brilliant.

Mom knows tons of junk about life, but she also knows her kids. Some call it mother's intuition. I call it damn-near psychic. My mom has always known things about me, long before I ever told her about them. To be honest, she's so good at this... that it almost freaks me out a little... but in a comforting way. She's always managed to offer me the very advice I needed, before I'd ever mentioned the problem. To encourage me to go on, before I'd ever threatened to quit. To say the exact words I needed to hear... before I knew I needed to hear them.

In truth, she's the only mom on Earth that could've handled a child like me. Growing up, I was a total pain-in-the-ass, at least 90% of the time... especially during the teenage years, which were a real treat for my parents. (What can I say... it happens to the best of us.)

I was grounded more times than not --and for good reason. I broke all of their rules and did massive-amounts of stupid crap. If I could go back in time, I'd ground my ass, too.

Back then, I basically thought "my life was over" ...at least 7000 times. Of course, my Mom would attempt to comfort me, saying: "Ashley... I know you're upset right now, but I promise it will be okay, and you'll probably even laugh about this one day."

Ummm... doubt it!! Mom- this is soooo super-serious right now! Didn't you hear me?! My life is OVER!!! Obviously, in my mind, my mom couldn't grasp the severity of my "complex teenage struggles." Because --clearly-- my mother was born yesterday, as a full-grown-Mom-adult. Duh.

Looking back now, those "struggles" seem pretty ridiculous and hilarious. My life was never over. My problems were often trivial. That boyfriend was a total douchebag. Curfew didn't kill me. And drinking was 100% illegal.

If I'm being honest... I should probably still be grounded...

But somehow, even during those tough times, my mom knew just how to deal with me. While she didn't let me get away with things, she did allow me to make mistakes. She also knew how to teach me the important lessons, in the exact way I needed to be taught. She knew how to comfort me, to encourage me, and to challenge me in the right ways. She knew how to inspire me in the best ways.

And I'm not sure how or why... but no matter what I did, she always loved me through it.

Here's a classic Mom example:
On one of those I'm-being-a-massive-baby-over-something-so-damn-stupid days, I had a big fight with my mom, because I felt like she didn't understand me. Later, I came home to find a card on my dresser. The card had a dog on the cover... and my mother's handwriting inside. It simply said:

"I do understand you. I'm your mom."

That day, I tucked those words into my heart, where they've lived ever since. Really... nothing more true was ever written. I'm never alone. She does understand me. Of course she does... she created me. She's my mom. 

My mom brought me into this world... and she's also kept me here. She's saved my life more than once... in very real ways. I honestly wouldn't be here today, if not for my mother's love. I wouldn't be me today, if not for her. I wouldn't be much-of-anything today... if not for her.

She's the very best mom in the whole wide world, and for whatever reason, she's my mom. Every day of my life, I've been blessed to have a mom like that.

And every night...
As I close my eyes... 
I thank God for His belief... 
that I'm worthy of her.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you more than anything. See you tonight!
Love,
Ash

*Please make a special donation to Lucky Dog Rescue in honor of my mom's birthday! It would mean so much to her!

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE!

I'm Back

Today, I was working at Lucky Dog... when it happened.

I felt the urge to write again.

So... for the first time in nearly 2 weeks... I sat down, and turned on my computer. Then, I started typing.

Then... I stopped.

What in the mother-crap-face should I write about??

As I sat here, staring blankly at the screen, I realized that I didn't quite know what to say.

So, I'd type a few words... then delete those few words. Then, I'd do it again. I continued this useless process for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was more like 20 minutes.

In my return to my blog, I guess I wanted to write something worth reading. Something compelling. Or inspiring. Or at the very least... decent.

At the moment, I had none of that.

So... I got up, walked away from the computer, and decided to do something else.

But, for some reason... I kept looking back at my computer... just longing for some sense of normal. I kept thinking: I should write something. Anything.

Even though it's only been a couple of weeks since my last post... to me, it feels like months have passed. I guess the recent chaos in my life helped skew my concept of time... with each day seeming about 2-months-long.

So, today... as I felt the urge to write again, I was suddenly worried that maybe I had nothing left to write... worth sharing.

I stopped and asked myself, "What did I write about before? And why did anyone read it?"

Well... I wrote about animal rescue. I wrote about shelter dogs. I wrote about action, change, and justice. I wrote about wishes, dreams, and reality. I wrote about life, love, and hope.

That's what I wrote about.

In doing so... I wrote with honesty. My words were genuine. I shared tears, and smiles, and laughs. I was candid, heartfelt, and real. I was... me.

And that's why they read it.

With that realization, I thought: Maybe I don't have to write something amazing. Maybe I should just... write. Maybe that's enough.

And so... here I am. I'm back.

I took a break... because I needed a break. Do I still need a break? Well, yeah.

But... while there are plenty of things I could (and should) take a break from... there's one thing I just can't do. 

I can't take a break from being me.

I am a writer, who is also a dog rescuer. I am... Lucky Dog Rescue Blog.

And Lucky Dog Rescue Blog... is back.

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE!

Save the Beers

Funny....
I should be "funny" today.

Yep

I'm sure everyone can use a laugh... so let's make that happen at my expense, okay? 

PS- For anyone who is "lacking" in the sense of humor department, it's probably best to leave now... before your unnecessary judgment begins to eat away at your soul.

(I mean that in a loving way. Really.)

Sooo, I won't lie... I'm feeling a little rough today. I'm not technically "sick." At least, not in the general sense of the word. Yet, I'm slightly functional... and hey... that's something.

But regardless of how I feel today, the laughs I had last night were totally worth the semi-permanent reduction in physical strength and mental capacity. Totally.

Most of you have no idea what I'm talking about right now. Yeah, me neither. But I know this much for sure: sometimes, you have to take a step back from all of the serious junk in the world... and just allow yourself to have some fun. I'm talking ridiculously stupid, completely nonsensical, seemingly-immature-but-well-worth-the-effort fun.

I try to have fun every day, but let's be honest... some days, it just ain't gonna happen. Certain days may start off on a decent foot, but it doesn't take long for the asshats to show-up, the bills to arrive, and the world to say, "Oh really?! You thought today was going to be 'fun?!' That's hilarious! Good luck, stupid!"

Other days, you never had a shot at fun. You wake up late, and the first words out of your mouth are, "Son-of-a-piece-of-a-mother-jank-face!" And from there... it's game over. On days like that, your only hope for sanity (or maybe the opposite?) is that end-of-day beer drinking.

Welcome to yesterday for me.

Reba McEntire, circa 1995

Last night, I altered my mission just a smidge: Save the beers. That's right. I said it. Judge me if you like, but those beers were cold and suffering... they needed me. And guess what? I was there for them. I certainly was.

After a trip to the shelter (beer store), several other facebook friends joined me... and within just a few short hours, we were able to create a nationwide network of beer rescuers.

Wait, crap... I forgot about all of the help we had in Canada, too. Why do I always seem to forget about Canada?? Oh, that's right... it's because most Mississippians are totally unaware that Canada is an actual country. I've had many arguments about this topic... and even though I'm unmistakably correct when I say, "It IS a country," I somehow always lose that battle 'round these parts. Oh well... small price to pay...

Okay, back to the pointless blog post that will inevitably ruin my reputation...

Sooo, last night's beer rescue league managed to produce one of the funniest nights ever recorded on facebook... with more than 268 hilarious comments on a photo of me drinking a beer-- Bud Light to be exact (I'm hoping for some kind of sponsorship).

Honestly, there's nothing better than a ridiculously long thread filled with inappropriate comments, political incorrectness, and borderline illegality. Well... depends on your definition of "borderline." I haven't heard from a few of you today... so... if you're looking to make bail, call someone else. I'm waaay low on cash, and my 2011 New Year's Resolution was to stay FAR AWAY from prison... at all costs. Sorry.

So, the first unnecessary thread led to a dare from Jodi Chick (proud Canadian) to upload a photo of myself posing as Reba McEntire, circa 1995 (don't ask). Since the word "dare" means "you have to," I made it happen. (And I scored a 5 spot. Ja-ja-ja- jackpot!)

$5 richer

That photo led to another ridiculous thread, and another photo request/dare from another random person. The stakes were high... he offered to be my friend in return for a photo with a special pose just for him. And so, once again, I was able to save yet another beer, and make another 5 bucks. If I'm being honest, I was damn proud of me.

Soooo, $10 and an unspecified number of beers later, I had accomplished my mission. That's right: I saved the beers last night, ladies and gentlemen. But really--as with all rescues--they saved me.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that a few dedicated beer drinkers changed the world last night. We made a difference by opening our hearts and veins to those in need. Thank you... to each and every one of you... for being selfless and giving enough to save sooo many sad, very cold beers from suffering. I believe a few Doritos found homes as well, and that's huge.

Thanks y'all, really. Because of you, I feel like pure ass today. It means so much.

Running Late... Again

*A very special THANK YOU to my friend, Catherine, for my AMAZING new Lucky Dog Rescue Blog header!!!

Is your life crazy? Like, legally insane crazy? Well... maybe I can make you feel better about yourself. Here’s a glimpse into the chaos of my early morning routine: Part 1.

I wake up, look at the clock, and say, “Son-of-a-MOTHER-of-a-french-face! I’m late!”
The ridiculous part... is that I already knew I was late, before I ever saw the time. It happened yesterday... and all the days before that one. Sure.. in all honesty, I’m my own boss, so I’m only “late” ... per the rules I set for myself. The definition of “useless” is being late... per your own damn rules.

I jump out of bed. Throw on some clothes. Attempt to brush my hair. Wash my face and brush my teeth. I take a second to consider makeup. Then, I laugh out loud, and get real: “Um… yeah…no… makeup is for people who can wake up on time. You’re LATE.” I scrap that idea... and run out of the bathroom, as if there’s a bomb inside.

Meanwhile, my dogs watch, as the madness goes down. They’re used to this by now... but they still find it slightly-amusing… in a highly-useless kind of way. See... their only concern in the morning is going outside to potty... and getting their breakfast. Since my lateness affects their schedule... they’re basically pissed… every day. I see them checking their watches and tapping their feet, like, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to address the tardiness.” So, I rush to get them out and fed... before they fire my ass.

I consider breakfast for myself. It is --of course-- the most important meal. I look at the clock… and realize that breakfast is only "important" ... if you have time for it. I, however, do not have time… due to my lateness. Instead, I search for something edible and portable. I scan the kitchen, and spot a banana. Um... JACKPOT! I grab the banana... and reach for my purse to throw it inside…

Ummm… where the FRENCH is my purse? I start tossing items onto the floor, in search of the piece-of-crap purse that somehow disappears on a daily-freaking-basis. You’d think by now... I would’ve learned to simply put it in the same damn place each time. But what fun is that, right? I like a freaking-challenge every time I need to leave the house. Then... I hear myself asking the dogs if they’ve seen my purse. Yeah… they don’t respond.

Aha! There you are, Purse! What’s wrong with you, Handbag… hiding from me under the table? Come on out, Pursey-Smurse. I’m not going to rob you. We both know there’s not a stitch of cash inside your ass anyway.

Shoes... I need shoes. I find one shoe… under the couch. As I reach underneath, I find a second shoe... that doesn’t match the first… but it’s good to know I have options. When you’re late, the need to “match” is really quite low. Even still, I choose to waste an additional 10 minutes on the missing shoe. I frantically run through each room, as if in a maze... with no freaking exit. I look at the clock again, and cuss myself for being so useless. “Seriously, Ash?! EVERY FREAKING DAY?!”

... Got it! Other shoe was in Darla’s crate. It’s half-chewed… has more of that open-toed feel now… but it could still pass for a shoe in most third-world countries. So, I throw it on, and head out the door…

Crap! Keys. My car says it needs "keys." Seems a little demanding, right? But really... I need that car... more than it needs me. I search. I dig. I stop… and think: Keys… where the HELL did I put my damn keys?! My friend bought me a Key Finder… but I can’t seem to find it.

Son of a biscuit! Seriously… how can one person lose EVERYTHING they own, every single day?! It seems a little unnecessary, of course. For most people... it’s nearly impossible... to do something so damn stupid... on a consistent-freaking basis. But not for me. Oh, no. I reach for the stars.

I’m pretty pissed at myself about the missing keys... and also a little parched from the work I’ve put in thus far. So, I open the fridge, to grab a drink. JACKPOT! Keys are on the refrigerator shelf... where I always keep them. Duh.

I grab the keys. Lock the door. Run to the car. Crank the car. Run back to the door because I forgot my drink. Run back to the car because I forgot my keys. Grab keys. Unlock door. Grab drink. Lock door. Run to car. Crank and drive.

Driving to Lucky Dog… I reach for my purse… and look at that. I forgot it.  

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The Night That Changed Everything

Certain events in our lives shape who we are. These events can make you, or break you. They can make you weaker, or they can make you stronger. They often change your entire outlook on life, and push you to follow your dreams. When tragedy strikes, the outcome… is what you make it…

The Night That Changed My Life

It was April 10, 2003. My boyfriend at the time, Philip, was driving my car. I was in the passenger seat, and my best friend, Jessica, was in the backseat. We were driving to my friend Tiffani’s house. We turned down an old Mississippi country road…

And then… 
I woke up.

The screaming woke me. 

It took me a minute to realize... that the screams were coming from me. As I opened my eyes, I saw the windshield… completely shattered. I looked around, and realized that my car was in a body of water. 

Panic set in… but I had no idea just how bad things really were. My mind started racing, and I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

The pain in my body was unbearable, but I didn’t have time to figure out where it was coming from. I looked at Jessica, and saw the blood on her face. I went to open my car door, but it was jammed. I went to move… and that’s when I realized… I couldn’t.

I said, “Jess, I can’t move my legs!”

That’s when I looked down… and I heard myself scream in a voice I didn’t recognize. My left kneecap was in the middle of my thigh, all my bones were coming through my skin... and my left foot… was hanging by a thread. I didn’t even think I had a foot anymore. My right leg was also broken, and I literally couldn’t move. There was blood everywhere. And the pain… I’ve never known that kind of physical agony.

Jessica got the rear door to open, and she said, “It’s okay, Ash. I’m going to get help.”

I heard her step out into the water...
And then… I was alone in the darkness.

I looked at Philip. Blood was pouring from his face. I shook him, but he didn’t flinch. I started shaking him as hard as I could, yelling, “Philip! Wake up! Please! You have to wake up! Philip, PLEASE!!!”

That’s when I came to the realization that Philip was probably dead. I heard a blood curdling scream come out of my body: “NOOOOOOO!” 

And I passed out from the pain.

I woke up, as Jessica got back to the car. On this particular road, there are only 2 houses. Jessica had walked for a very long time in the wrong direction, and she was turning back to try to find help the other way. She said, “I’m gonna go this way now, Ash. Please hold on for me. I’ll be right back.” 

I said, “Jess, please don’t leave me!” 
But of course, she had to leave to find help.

The pain in my legs was so unbelievable. I wanted to crawl out of my own body. I was shaking uncontrollably from the pain. I was losing so much blood, and I could feel myself going in and out.

And that’s when it hit me: I’m going to die here. At 18 years old.

It hurt so much… I couldn’t imagine surviving. Plus, we were in the middle of nowhere. It would take forever for an ambulance to get there. Then, they’d have to find a way into the water to get us out.

With that realization, I could feel all the hope leaving my heart...
Suddenly, I knew: I'm about to die.

I thought about my parents and my little brother… getting the call to say there'd been an accident... and that I didn’t make it. I thought about my dogs, Darby and Goldie… waiting for me to come home again. I thought about all of the things I wanted to do with my life. Everything I wanted to be. I was a Freshman in college, and just a few hours before, I had my whole life ahead of me. Now, I was sure that today would be my last.

But then... I decided that I couldn’t let that happen. So, the next time I started to lose consciousness, I thought about my family, and I fought to stay awake. I prayed. I held onto my dreams, and made a promise to myself that I’d achieve those goals someday. I wasn't sure how long I held on for, but it felt like days.

Eventually, I reached the point... where I couldn’t hold on any longer.

As I felt myself letting go... of my life and this world...
I heard the sirens.
The sirens that would save my life.

I was in the hospital for weeks. My body and my legs were severely damaged... especially my left leg, which had been completely crushed. Further, my left foot was essentially ripped from my body.

The initial surgical plan was to amputate my foot. At 18 years old, I didn’t even know how to process that information. But an amazing surgeon stepped up and offered to try and repair the damage.

After multiple surgeries, Dr. Durgin saved my foot. And after months in a wheelchair, I finally learned to walk again.

I went on to finish college, get my Master of Business Administration (MBA), and start my own business, Lucky Dog Retreat, and my own nonprofit rescue, Lucky Dog Rescue. I kept all of the promises I made to myself that night. For me, it was the night that changed everything.

I'd later find out that the old country road we were driving down, had been washed away in the severe weather the week before, and our car had plummeted off a steep embankment... into a creek, landing on a tree stump. We never saw it coming.  

While I had no concept of time that night, I'd later learn that it took well-over an hour, from the time the wreck occurred.... until help finally arrived. I was seconds from death, when the ambulance got there.

Without my best friend, Jessica, I would have died that night. She truly saved my life.

I would also find out that Philip didn’t die in the accident. However, Philip died one year later, on St. Patrick’s day, in a tragic house fire. It was beyond-devastating.

I wanted to share this story, because it made me… me. If you’ve ever wondered why I’m so driven, why I care so much, why I follow my dreams --above all else, now you know. If you’ve wondered why I have my own business and nonprofit rescue at 26 years old, now you know. My life… is happening right now. I don’t wait for someday down the road.

Because, on April 10, 2003, I didn’t think “down the road” existed for me. But 8 years later, I’m exactly where I promised myself I would be. Even though I'm in pain every day, I walk the dogs anyway... because I can. And while that night was the worst night of my life… it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

*Written in loving memory of Philip Lindsey

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