I worked at a corporation for a little over 10 years downtown. From almost the start of my employment, I rallied department admins to save their newspapers for me, so I could put them to good use in dog rescue, animal shelters, and at the wildlife center. There wasn’t even a recycling program going on there at the time, so the papers usually ended up in the trash.
Every Friday, for 10 years, I wheeled a cart from floor to floor in that high rise and picked up newspapers. In the beginning, I would have so much paper that I’d need to take 2 or 3 trips to my truck to unload them from my cart. During that decade, lay-offs continued, departments were reduced, eliminated, or sometimes outsourced, and the newspaper collection dwindled to one trip to the truck a week.
Also during that decade, the Wall Street journal was the last of the newspapers to reduce the size of the paper it’s printed on. It was interesting how coveted by pet rescuers the WSJ was till then. It seems that certain kennels and cages were made for an exact fit of the former-sized papers.
On my 10th year anniversary, it was my turn. I was given notice that my position was being eliminated, which besides being devastating news to me as a sole-supporting family, also affected my newspaper stash. The rescue I work with came to depend on the papers, so it really trickled down. But one person in that company took heart. One person kept collecting papers for me.
It takes a certain and rare personality to voluntarily do something that is an inconvenience to them with the added bonus of having nothing in it for them. This woman is a gem! My former co-worker emails me once a month, wheels the cart down to the storage room, and I pick them up on either Saturday or Sunday. Sometimes I get lucky and the security guard sees me coming and wheels the cart out to me. Sometimes, the guard makes me take the cart out all the way to and fro. People are so varied.
Today, when the door opened, that blast of cold air from that “green” building chilled my bones right on that sunny sidewalk and I was so thankful that the guard rolled out the cart. He re-entered the building while I loaded the papers from the cart on the steps into my truck.
A Haitian man had been siting on the sidewalk watching all this time. Then started watching me load the papers. Apparently the thought of pitching in never crossed his mind, but when he needed information, he came over to ask me how he could get a contract like I had for picking up newspapers. Now, he may have been half pickled, as he was hard to understand, but he left me when I told him there was no contract and it was volunteer work. He walked across the street into the bar that had about another 15 minutes till alcohol could be served. It’s illegal to sell alcohol until noon on Sundays in Florida.
Now I split these precious newspapers up between my rescue friends and me. I keep some for my local Housetraining 123 clients, who occasionally need the extra coverage. Without my former co-workers consideration, though, I’d not have this luxury. People like her really are the ones making the difference. There really is a trickle down effect in life. People who overcome little inconveniences to help in ways like this mean a lot to other people trying to do the same thing. Make a difference.
By Helen Verte
Certified Pet Dog Trainer-Knowledge Assessed, Certified Trick Dog Instructor
