Some things just break your heart....
Trisha called me this afternoon from the Ladatel payphone outside the Pemex station in Pescadero, and as I answered she burst into tears. She had a rough day, and passed on some news which was disheartening, and very sad. She told me that she had left the ranch to go to Todos Santos for some coffee this morning, and just as she was turning onto Hwy. 19 northbound, she noticed Nandi had followed her for over a mile and a half on the dirt road from home. She was alarmed, yet relieved that she had noticed her, and let her into the car. Realizing she had forgotten her wallet, she returned home to get it, and then headed to Todos Santos. A few miles down the highway, she noticed two young dogs, a male approximately the size and age of Tequila (Tiki Tila) and a smaller female, apparently frightened and confused, obviously recent dump-offs on the road. This damn Mexican mentality of discarding dogs on highways just makes me sick. Anyway, Trisha managed to pull over, despite the lack of shoulders or any really convenient places to do this, and she tried to coax the pups over to her, intent on at least taking them back to the refuge.
The small female was relieved enough to approach Trisha, and let her pet her, but the male, while trying hard to trust, just couldn't make himself do it, and he remained out of reach, eventually retreating into the brush despite Trisha's attempts to coax him to her. She didn't know what to do, since the two of them seemed quite bonded to each other. Also, having Nandi in the car complicated things, since she doesn't accept strange dogs very readily and the possibility of having things go really wrong, and possibly losing Nandi if she were to jump out of the car, was a daunting thought. So, she decided to not take the female right then without her companion, and rushed back to El Refugio for help, and to ask Mariposa if she would accept these dogs. Mariposa told her to definately try to retrieve them, and gave Trisha a couple of leashes to use. Armed with a renewed commitment to save these dogs, she returned to where she had seen them, about 8 minutes away, only to come upon the sad scene of the larger male pup lying in the middle of the highway, a victim of an anonymous passing car or truck. The little female was on the side of the road nearby her companion, and was trying to work up the courage to approach the still form of his body, gingerly stepping into the middle of the road herself. Trisha drove right up to the hit dog, and stopped her car in the middle of the highway, risking being a victim herself, and rushed out to grab the female pup and secure her in the car. Then she returned to the poor pup which had been hit, and it was clear he was dead. Sadly, she picked him up and laid him in the back of her wagon, and wrapped him up in a couple of large towels, and headed for home. One alive, one dead. When she dropped off the surviving pup, she went to the Pemex and called me. I know she needed me right then to be with her, because all she could do was blame herself for her hesitation. I felt so bad for her, and for what had happened. We decided she would bury the pup, who we named Pedro, in the arroyo at the ranch. I told her it must have been God's intention that Nandi had followed her, that she had forgotten her wallet, or she probably wouldn't have seen the dogs in the first place. I tried to reassure her that she had done a good, compassionate thing, and had saved the female puppy, which undoubtedly would have been runover shortly had Trisha not intervened. I know she heard me, but I also know Trisha is in agony...that she could have saved both of them, and she will probably keep blaming herself for a long time. It's sad, yet I believe that something, or someone divine, does most of the intervening, and we just have to accept our role in the way things play out, as long as we are doing our best. It's the only way we can live with ourselves when things sometimes seem preventable or senseless, and we carry that weight. I'm hoping she'll be alright tonight.
I'm going to post a few photos immediately after this post, which will reference the rest of the news Trisha relayed from El Refugio today.
She told me that Saguaro had died, most likely of distemper, and also a pup named Soledad, who had been at the refuge for nearly 2 months. Saguaro was the poor dog Mariposa had carried in her arms from the neighboring ranch early in my stay at El Refugio, injured and mangy. He had thrived in the weeks since then, and was actually quite the spunky, somewhat dominant fellow once he felt at home. He had grown his coat back and was becoming actually pretty by the time I had left two weeks ago. Soledad had arrived in late March, barely weaned and emotionally traumatized. She was a gorgeous black, mainly lab-type pup, and Mariposa had taken special care of her because of her fear of people. Healthwise, this puppy was thriving, and the emotional scars were slowly fading. Soledad died over the weekend, also it is feared, from distemper. As Trisha relayed these events to me, she was crying, and told me she wasn't sure she could continue to subject herself to the heartache of life at El Refugio. This place gets into your soul, and makes you care. The cycle of life, and yes, death, which is El Refugio is a hard thing to let go of, and for Trisha's desires to find peace and quiet for her writing it is a hard thing emotionally. And of course, she worries about our Nandi. Did we do the right thing bringing her back to Mexico, risking her health or life? These things all eat at us, yet the tug on the heartstrings when one comes to know the innocent dogs grabbing at a second chance in life, is overpowering. It becomes everything when you're there, at a place like this. The struggle to save them all is never-ending if you have a soul.
Trisha said Canejo, a two-year resident male dog, has moved to be near her. A week or so before I left, Canejo let down his guard, and started to trust us. He began to hang around, totally tolerant of any puppies jumping up on him. He was so dignified that we both began to take notice of him, and what we saw was a loneliness inside this noble dog pushing him to overcome a life-long shyness and isolation, allowing him to seek the companionship of two humans, and their puppy family. He began to play, to bark - this previously silent dog - and look forward to seeing us each time we appeared. I began to feed him that week, to show him my acceptance, and I guess he has been Trisha's guardian ever since. The thing about this dog, is he was so unassuming most of the time I was in baja, that I only managed one picture with him in it, and it was posted on this blog a couple of months ago. It was a photo of several dogs in a field early one morning. Canejo is the large dog in the picture. I'll post that picture again.
Finally, Trisha told me that Miss Gandhi, Elizabeth's sister, was doing well. This pup is one that I featured a month or so back, when she was so sick that we didn't know is she would make it. I had posted a picture of Dr. Gabriel examining her when she was in isolation, and at the time seemed to be suffering liver and kidney failure. A big turning point in her recovery back then was Trisha's determination to not keep this pup isolated so much, because it seemed to sadden her, yet she wanted so much to hang on. When she was brought into the sunshine, and able to see all the other puppies, her demeanor changed radically, and she began to eat again, with her condition eventually allowing her to be returned to the group. She was so thin that we began to refer to her as 'Miss Gandi,' which has more or less become her permanent name. Since I left, Trisha has been fostering her, and she's earned a spot in our hearts. How does one leave these creatures once they become a part of our lives?
I'll let it go at that - a long post for the non-readers. I will probably say a prayer for Trisha tonight, not something I'm usually good at, as the guy upstairs well knows.
The small female was relieved enough to approach Trisha, and let her pet her, but the male, while trying hard to trust, just couldn't make himself do it, and he remained out of reach, eventually retreating into the brush despite Trisha's attempts to coax him to her. She didn't know what to do, since the two of them seemed quite bonded to each other. Also, having Nandi in the car complicated things, since she doesn't accept strange dogs very readily and the possibility of having things go really wrong, and possibly losing Nandi if she were to jump out of the car, was a daunting thought. So, she decided to not take the female right then without her companion, and rushed back to El Refugio for help, and to ask Mariposa if she would accept these dogs. Mariposa told her to definately try to retrieve them, and gave Trisha a couple of leashes to use. Armed with a renewed commitment to save these dogs, she returned to where she had seen them, about 8 minutes away, only to come upon the sad scene of the larger male pup lying in the middle of the highway, a victim of an anonymous passing car or truck. The little female was on the side of the road nearby her companion, and was trying to work up the courage to approach the still form of his body, gingerly stepping into the middle of the road herself. Trisha drove right up to the hit dog, and stopped her car in the middle of the highway, risking being a victim herself, and rushed out to grab the female pup and secure her in the car. Then she returned to the poor pup which had been hit, and it was clear he was dead. Sadly, she picked him up and laid him in the back of her wagon, and wrapped him up in a couple of large towels, and headed for home. One alive, one dead. When she dropped off the surviving pup, she went to the Pemex and called me. I know she needed me right then to be with her, because all she could do was blame herself for her hesitation. I felt so bad for her, and for what had happened. We decided she would bury the pup, who we named Pedro, in the arroyo at the ranch. I told her it must have been God's intention that Nandi had followed her, that she had forgotten her wallet, or she probably wouldn't have seen the dogs in the first place. I tried to reassure her that she had done a good, compassionate thing, and had saved the female puppy, which undoubtedly would have been runover shortly had Trisha not intervened. I know she heard me, but I also know Trisha is in agony...that she could have saved both of them, and she will probably keep blaming herself for a long time. It's sad, yet I believe that something, or someone divine, does most of the intervening, and we just have to accept our role in the way things play out, as long as we are doing our best. It's the only way we can live with ourselves when things sometimes seem preventable or senseless, and we carry that weight. I'm hoping she'll be alright tonight.
I'm going to post a few photos immediately after this post, which will reference the rest of the news Trisha relayed from El Refugio today.
She told me that Saguaro had died, most likely of distemper, and also a pup named Soledad, who had been at the refuge for nearly 2 months. Saguaro was the poor dog Mariposa had carried in her arms from the neighboring ranch early in my stay at El Refugio, injured and mangy. He had thrived in the weeks since then, and was actually quite the spunky, somewhat dominant fellow once he felt at home. He had grown his coat back and was becoming actually pretty by the time I had left two weeks ago. Soledad had arrived in late March, barely weaned and emotionally traumatized. She was a gorgeous black, mainly lab-type pup, and Mariposa had taken special care of her because of her fear of people. Healthwise, this puppy was thriving, and the emotional scars were slowly fading. Soledad died over the weekend, also it is feared, from distemper. As Trisha relayed these events to me, she was crying, and told me she wasn't sure she could continue to subject herself to the heartache of life at El Refugio. This place gets into your soul, and makes you care. The cycle of life, and yes, death, which is El Refugio is a hard thing to let go of, and for Trisha's desires to find peace and quiet for her writing it is a hard thing emotionally. And of course, she worries about our Nandi. Did we do the right thing bringing her back to Mexico, risking her health or life? These things all eat at us, yet the tug on the heartstrings when one comes to know the innocent dogs grabbing at a second chance in life, is overpowering. It becomes everything when you're there, at a place like this. The struggle to save them all is never-ending if you have a soul.
Trisha said Canejo, a two-year resident male dog, has moved to be near her. A week or so before I left, Canejo let down his guard, and started to trust us. He began to hang around, totally tolerant of any puppies jumping up on him. He was so dignified that we both began to take notice of him, and what we saw was a loneliness inside this noble dog pushing him to overcome a life-long shyness and isolation, allowing him to seek the companionship of two humans, and their puppy family. He began to play, to bark - this previously silent dog - and look forward to seeing us each time we appeared. I began to feed him that week, to show him my acceptance, and I guess he has been Trisha's guardian ever since. The thing about this dog, is he was so unassuming most of the time I was in baja, that I only managed one picture with him in it, and it was posted on this blog a couple of months ago. It was a photo of several dogs in a field early one morning. Canejo is the large dog in the picture. I'll post that picture again.
Finally, Trisha told me that Miss Gandhi, Elizabeth's sister, was doing well. This pup is one that I featured a month or so back, when she was so sick that we didn't know is she would make it. I had posted a picture of Dr. Gabriel examining her when she was in isolation, and at the time seemed to be suffering liver and kidney failure. A big turning point in her recovery back then was Trisha's determination to not keep this pup isolated so much, because it seemed to sadden her, yet she wanted so much to hang on. When she was brought into the sunshine, and able to see all the other puppies, her demeanor changed radically, and she began to eat again, with her condition eventually allowing her to be returned to the group. She was so thin that we began to refer to her as 'Miss Gandi,' which has more or less become her permanent name. Since I left, Trisha has been fostering her, and she's earned a spot in our hearts. How does one leave these creatures once they become a part of our lives?
I'll let it go at that - a long post for the non-readers. I will probably say a prayer for Trisha tonight, not something I'm usually good at, as the guy upstairs well knows.
posted by Phil at 10:49 PM
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