I saved Jesus and then she saved me.

“Wake up! Are you still dreaming?” 

Over the last six months, I have been telling one story consistently and fervently - the story of my friendship with Jesus…the fox. Storytelling is my creative lifeblood. It brings me in this wonderful state of excited urgency where I can explore and dream. Some stories take epic effort to write. Others write themselves or have always been written. Such is the story of me and Jesus - the boy and his fox. 

Ever since the four-legged fairy walked towards me on Good Friday, with that heart-wrenching air of anxious bravery, hungry, ailing and pleading for kindness, I knew that this was big. It was as if she had chosen me to tell the world about her in what was going to become my best story. Our best story. “God…you are obsessed with this fox.” You think? Well, erm…yes, I am obsessed. When have I not been obsessed with the matters that move me? What should I be doing instead? Skimming the surface? Dipping in and out? Sounds like a bloody waste of effort. 

A wild animal will never be a pet. Building a relationship with a wild animal requires utmost honesty and intuition. In return, you are rewarded with a wreath of lessons and a best story. Here are the lessons Jesus taught me so far: 

1. Safety is everything. Physical safety to start with, then psychological one. I have been observing her survival mechanisms and iron principles in action with nothing but admiration. And I have been accepting her myriad rejections with a smile and an applause. 

2. Love without affection is possible. To this day, Jesus hasn’t allowed me to touch her. Yet the emotions expressed through her eyes (tenderness, compassion, even commitment) give me the warmth of the cuddle I may never receive. 

3. Trust is earned every day. The contract with a pet requires obedience and ownership. The pact with the wild takes fearlessness to surrender yourself to the unknown. It relies less on the credit built over time but on the kindness and honesty shown each day. 

“Are you sure it’s not all in your head?” No, I’m not. But I’d like to think it’s all in my heart. In the upper chambers of my heart and the superior vena cava, to be more specific. I cured Jesus of a bad eye infection and mange. She cured me of a broken heart and all the related afflictions. I didn’t know how to care for her but I did. She didn’t know how to trust me but she did. So, we did it. Our best story, the quintessential fairytale of a boy and his fox wrote itself. Because it’s always been written. Just like the sentence that no one else in the whole wi(l)de world but I can recite with my hand on my heart: “I saved Jesus and then she saved me.” 

Please don’t wake me up just yet. I am still dreaming.

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