puppy love

about eight years ago, i worked at an agency in northern new jersey that served the homeless. i was one of four employees, and the thing that kept me there for two years was the fact that the three women i worked with were hilarious, incredible people. it surely wasn't the actual work. i was the case manager for homeless families living in transitional housing apartments, and to single men who were in recovery from alcohol and drug addictions. plus, we ran a food pantry and had some funding to help people with emergency services. and we had a 24-hour emergency hotline. things were a wee bit busy in that office and the bar for what was considered a crisis situation lowered with each day. when i got the job i had a year's social work experience from my stint as a full-time volunteer case manager in montana, but that was it. in reality, i didn't know what i was doing.

the director had a rule that saved us all. we always had to treat each client with respect and dignity, but when it was just us in the office, we could say whatever we wanted to let off steam. considering we were often dealing with incredibly intense and difficult situations, this was my lifeline to sanity. thankfully, my co-workers shared my belief that the best relief for stress is the use of extremely inappropriate humor.

i had been at the agency for a few months and was finally getting into the swing of things. i was getting more confident in my ability to give people the correct referrals and be able to work with them to develop reachable goals and a solid plan so they could get back on their feet. one day the phone rang, as it did approximately 3 million times a day there, and i picked it up with my usual friendly tone. the guy on the phone introduced himself and said that he was having trouble finding a job. he explained that he had received some help from our agency in the past. he told me that he was a recovering alcoholic and did some stupid things in the past, and he was worried that because of his unemployment, some of his old ways of thinking would come back. i listened to him talk for a while, using my best active listening skills, and gave him some referrals for job resources and addictions counselors. he was very appreciative of my help and as we hung up i was very proud of myself for my ability to handle the situation. out of curiousity, i looked up his file to see what type of services we had provided for him.

in his file it said, "he called for help with housing. he was receiving welfare. he said that he no longer wants to have sex with his wife. he likes having sex with young boys. he also likes having sex with animals. he got caught having sex with a dog and was arrested. his wife decided to leave him." talk about doing some stupid things in the past. wow. i, of course, shared the story with my co-workers, and then went to get lunch and regroup. when i walked back in, my co-worker meg said, "hey mare...i think you must've sat in something...there's something on the back of your pants." so i turned around to look and she said, "hey, is it just me, or do you have a DOG IN YOUR ASS!?!" meg said, "just kidding...seriously, come here and let me know if this makes sense." she was working on a daily to-do list for her clients at the shelter. i glanced over at her computer screen and it said, in about 40 font, "#1: TAKE THE DOG OUT OF YOUR ASS."