Yes, even here, I end up with doggies. Two puppies born in September. Even though they are “village dogs” (unowned, dirty, diseased etc…) Myself and a neighbor about three doors down feed them. And they are a highlight to everyday. The larger female we call Josie Grosie (as she used to have a bad case of mange but is doing much better now). The little one, who though the same age, is almost 1/3 Josie’s size we call “Baby”. I am thinking of re-naming him “Scrappy-Doo” after Scooby’s smaller yet feistier side-kick. This little guy cracks me up. He is so tiny and scrawny. His little bones stick out everywhere and when you feed him, his little belly blows up like a water balloon. But this guy is all EGO! He thinks he is a big fella and I have been walking down the street and seen him try to take on a giant village dog. He barks, he growls and snaps his teeth and you can’t believe so much noise could come out of such a little creature. But it doesn’t seem to matter how much I feed him… he just won’t grow and these past few days I even think he is doing worse (I will take him to the vet tomorrow to get him de-wormed).
When I first met these little pups, I resisted the urge to get attached to them. Several years ago when I was living in Tanzania, I had a village dog named “Scruffy” that I became very attached to, and one day while I was out in the field doing research, I came home to learn that the mini-bus driver had run him over, maliciously. The other villagers who saw it said that he appeared to have done it on purpose. Why? No reason, sometimes cruelty begets cruelty and the lesser creatures, the helpless are so often the victims. So I know with something as vulnerable as this little dog, in a world that is already so difficult…I know I don’t want to get attached. But as time has gone on, and they sleep under my feet while I work, getting up every once in awhile to frighten me by licking my toes (yikes), as they excitedly walk with me to the store or wag their tails so hard at me in the morning that it looks like the little one will flop over with wagging, I have become attached. I turn them out at night and hear them fighting with other village dogs and every morning when I open the gate I half expect to not see the little one. Every time I feed him I fear it will be the last time. Their mother was attacked by another village dog last week, she had a deep cut in her front leg, I went out to help her, but knew I couldn’t she is much bigger and when and animal is in pain, I know what their reactions to touch usually are… being that they aren’t vaccinated, it was too dangerous. I watched her that day as she limped around. But I have not seen her since. These puppies may now be motherless. Why in a world with so many difficult things, when the work I am doing with people can already be so difficult, why is it that a little dog becomes a symbol of the struggle and even of the acceptance I must have of struggle, loss and disappointment. I suppose I have learned to accept the harsh realities of life, without protecting myself, without avoiding loving something, even when I know it might hurt me or I might lose it. Is this progress? Well “Baby” thinks so, he is quite enjoying all the attention
!
When I first met these little pups, I resisted the urge to get attached to them. Several years ago when I was living in Tanzania, I had a village dog named “Scruffy” that I became very attached to, and one day while I was out in the field doing research, I came home to learn that the mini-bus driver had run him over, maliciously. The other villagers who saw it said that he appeared to have done it on purpose. Why? No reason, sometimes cruelty begets cruelty and the lesser creatures, the helpless are so often the victims. So I know with something as vulnerable as this little dog, in a world that is already so difficult…I know I don’t want to get attached. But as time has gone on, and they sleep under my feet while I work, getting up every once in awhile to frighten me by licking my toes (yikes), as they excitedly walk with me to the store or wag their tails so hard at me in the morning that it looks like the little one will flop over with wagging, I have become attached. I turn them out at night and hear them fighting with other village dogs and every morning when I open the gate I half expect to not see the little one. Every time I feed him I fear it will be the last time. Their mother was attacked by another village dog last week, she had a deep cut in her front leg, I went out to help her, but knew I couldn’t she is much bigger and when and animal is in pain, I know what their reactions to touch usually are… being that they aren’t vaccinated, it was too dangerous. I watched her that day as she limped around. But I have not seen her since. These puppies may now be motherless. Why in a world with so many difficult things, when the work I am doing with people can already be so difficult, why is it that a little dog becomes a symbol of the struggle and even of the acceptance I must have of struggle, loss and disappointment. I suppose I have learned to accept the harsh realities of life, without protecting myself, without avoiding loving something, even when I know it might hurt me or I might lose it. Is this progress? Well “Baby” thinks so, he is quite enjoying all the attention
!
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