Although technically it is Buzzy's turn to write the Editorial, I thought I would rotate myself in for this month because I have been travelling through this wonderful path of growth that I would like to share, which actually was brought to a wonderful crescendo this past week. I served in a leadership position in another organization, to orchestrate the academics of a major international conference. I say this in no way to posture but rather to provide context. You may not know me well enough to really and truly understand that I am not someone who takes herself too seriously, but I hope you are able to believe me as I convey something on my heart in this message.

Throughout my life, I have been a "sensitive." It is mostly a positive trait, because it means that I am attuned to other sentient beings. My sensitivity has served to inspire and inform my research and my activism, including of course my work with YTNR. However, as the case with anything taken to extreme, my sensitivity - particularly as a child-robbed me at times of my own well-being. Caught up in mental traps of worrying about what others thought of me, energy that I could have put to use in creative projects or other positive efforts was often times siphoned off. The attributions and origins of this could likely be traced to genetics as well as my minority identity. It does not really matter though, whether my sensitivity was nature or nurture. It held me back because it diluted my energy. Over the course of my thirties and forties, I got stronger and more resilient through my experiences. Most importantly, I acquired an unshakeable sense of self-confidence. I include and I emphasize the importance of self-confidence in virtually all dimensions of my professional and avocational pursuits. I can recall a couple of specific events - and both of them happened many years ago- during my YTNR work in which I was almost paralyzed with self-doubt and concern with others' opinions of me. The first involved a transport (again, many years ago) and one ill-timed and poorly worded comment on the part of an unsuspecting person that was uncomfortable for me. I wondered if the organization would welcome me if they really knew that I had a girlfriend, not a husband. I had no "he" to which to safely refer when asked about my family structure. However, that worry was quickly eliminated when I got to know the leaders of the organization, and I learned how not only sophisticated they were, but also, how loving they were. The second incident involved a rescue that I did, in which I entered into the situation thinking (this is part na�ve and part my Southern heritage of ubiquitous friendliness and openness) that I was making some new friends. Turns out, the folks were not quite friendly, the wife/mother actually snapped at me, and I gutted out the rescue through a mild haze of hurt and slight bewilderment. Although my feelings were hurt (and I was offended, too), I kept my eye on the ball. I kept in mind that I was there to rescue a Yorkie, not to make a new set of friends. Additionally, I came to understand and respect the fact that that family was going through a crisis of their own that had nothing to do with me. In fact, I think that self-consciousness in a way is a bit of self-centeredness. The antidote for self-consciousness is to become interested in things outside of one's self. YTNR is a great way to put tremendously positive energy into this world. Although my operating system is and will always be turned to the "I love to make new friends" knob, I now understand that people come in a variety of forms and we all have different tastes and preferences for how to show up in this world. That is not something to be feared or rejected, it is to be accepted and embraced.

The work of YTNR certainly results in friendships. It is virtually inevitable. I cannot imagine my life without the chat list, for example. I have grown very attached to my YTNR friends. Folks who know me, know my quirks, understand what makes me tick. And I understand them.

This world is very big. It is very diverse. Our work in YTNR slices through the heartache of a bad decision on the part of a well-intentioned person to obtain a Yorkie, and it comes to the rescue of an elderly and abandoned Yorkie. We stand ready to hit the road to get the dog and to provide the warm bed, great meal, hugs, kisses and assurance that the worst days for that Yorkie are well behind him or her.

Sensitivity aimed outward in positive acts of stewardship for Yorkies in need is one way that I have personally and individually grown. How much more of a reward could I ask?