Adios, Aussie.

the telltale signs...

Nothing breaks a heart like a Border Collie/Aussie. For you, it may be a Doxie or a Schnauzer. But I never got over my dog Billy Goat, who at 16, I had to put to rest in 2007 and it stings. Still.

I have had to make some unhappy decisions doing dog rescue, many are made for me. I rarely turn anyone away and because of that, I have 16 dogs living with me. I don’t as a rule take puppies, but occasionally mama dogs get poisoned, orphans are found living under tires, people knock on my door with puppies…neighbors don’t feed so they follow their noses to my house where this happy bunch lives. Come on in! It’s the best!

Someone handed me Gracie at 7am in February on a road where I was walking and he said he found her on the highway and he couldn’t keep her, could I help. She looked like a Teddy Bear and of course I couldn’t say no. For the record, I’d take a helpless ugly dog too. She was probably 4 weeks old and all alone in the desert likely a dump from someone’s Christmas puppy gifting. She was great and we all loved Gracie. She cared for other orphan pups as she grew up and at 3 months she suddenly stopped eating, couldn’t drink. Started vomiting. Sleeping for 14 hours. Parvo.

I did the IV fluids which is impossible in a crappy Mexican apartment with zero furniture but I figured it out. A week of shots and the vet came on Saturday. He said prognosis is 40%. Very contagious. Keep other puppies away. But they’d already been together 24/7. Then Brindle got it. Then Cookie. Everyone got the vaccine. Brindle got sick, but survived. Cookie kicked it in a day. Gracie died on a Sunday early in the AM and we took her to the hills on the beach and laid her in some sage.

A new worker wanna be dude has been hanging around and it turns out his dog had the 12 puppies where 7 died. He asked me a week ago to come see the puppies and see if they were okay. I’ve seen the mama looking for food so I knew they weren’t okay. Under an old car in a stock pot in desert heat with no water and occasional milk from mama and kitchen scraps they’d survived a month. I cleaned up the ones I could reach, pulled the ticks from them, delivered back the “painted” ones because the little kids wanted to keep them…and the guy left one Aussie and one black one here. It’s better there he said, I’m going to build a pen for them.

They need their mom I said. They’ve started sucking on male dogs penises here to find milk. I feed them all kinds of things but they need their mom. Immunity is built at the teat. Yesterday the Aussie stopped eating. Staring at the water bowl and not drinking. Sleeping 14 hours. The signs.

I was already a little aggravated with the worker guy when he got here today. The last time he was here he was dismissive and demanding in that old macho Latino way. I haven’t seen that in years but this town is a vortex. I still don’t put up with it. If you want to work at the gringa lady’s house, you likely need to figure out how to work with gringa ladies. When he told me I didn’t put enough sugar in his coffee that he was drinking on my patio that he was supposed to be cleaning, the hair on my arm stood up. The signs.

I had run through some other conversations, you know how you replay in your mind when a manipulator sneaks up on you…and you’re like hey. Wait. What the fuck did he say to me on Thursday?

I was prepared today for it to be his last. I run a shelter on donations which are sparse, it’s nice to think of a helper, but I don’t have money for that. I have a lot less if you have an attitude. And a 55 year old dude who was a “boat captain” for 25 years shouldn’t be sleeping outside in a shed with no car or resources. Well he can, it’s fine, but what are you really delivering to Cabos across the Sea of Cortez. This is a lay low place to let something else cool down I suspect. There’s a lot of old dudes here who were likely smugglers back in the day but without a plan, even a dope windfall will disappear. Or maybe he’s just hiding here and has millions buried in the desert. I don’t really care about that. I am however, not interested in someone with weird energy who CLEARLY doesn’t want to take orders from a woman. I know he doesn’t want to be raking poo, but dog rescue is poo, cleaning, brushing, barking, water bucket feeding, dog food bag hauling rinse and repeat. You came to me. And don’t ask me every day what you’re supposed to do. Rake the fucking sand.

I saw an eye roll this morning, and I put down the hose and said, “I think it’s better you leave. Also, I cannot keep these puppies. It’s not fair to drop these here, they need their mom, if you feed her instead of buying beer and cigarettes, she can produce milk. If you have 2 you can have 4. The little Aussie isn’t eating and I think she’s sick. There’s not a great cure for Parvo. You can throw a lot of money at it and they still die. This is the number for the mobile vet. He’s very low cost. He’ll be in town today. I cannot risk my entire pack with Parvo, nor can I dedicate the kind of intensive care that’s needed with 14 others. I can’t give you more work, as I don’t have enough money for an assistant, and frankly I don’t think we’re a good match.”

He dropped the rake and I saw the real face behind the opportunist face. Dogs go away if you have no food, grifters go away if you don’t have money.

I handed the little black male to him with his fat belly, he’s fine. I pulled the Aussie girl from under the table and held her tiny body, it’s horrifying how fast they fade away, the dehydration is what kills them. They are like powder in a matter of days. She stared at me so deep and long that it broke my heart all over again. There’s nothing I can do, she needs her mom’s milk. And likely more, but people besides me need to take responsibility in this town. There are 6 people living over there. Someone can buy some puppy chow.

I don’t connect with all the dogs here, some are just passing through the cafeteria. But that little blue eyed merle was a tough surrender. Whether I was to keep that dog or not, she needs her mom. The worker dude said, okay, held the dogs out like a couple of gourds and said Adios, Me-CHELL. He was paid the other day for 2 days but swept up here today for 20 minutes and left. No surprises there, that guy I was right about.

Then, the hot sting of inappropriately timed tears. The lady boss’ nemesis. Everything and nothing to do with that puppy but her face said, I’ll never make it. I thought you loved me…

2007, my dad’s death, my dog’s death, my restaurant sold, my brother’s death in 2004, my mom’s death in 2015, my friendships lost, the feeling that no one really likes you unless they’re on your payroll, the failed love relationships, the real estate financial losses and regrets, the car accident, being stuck in desert Mexico, not being appreciated, not being understood, not feeling enough, not feeling effective, not being able to save everyone and everything, untreatable migraines, my constant lifelong dance with depression, not being able to make people care about dogs in this town/region/country. The seamstress who fucked up my clothes because she can’t sew, my totaled van, not being able to get out of here, not having parmesan cheese, having to drink instant coffee, feeling like the only thing I’m good at is saving dogs and even with that, I lose a few. My average-ish Spanish.

Nature is cruel. Some people aren’t going to like you. The food sucks in some locations. Even cute dogs die.

I got in the shower immediately, and let it all wash out of me. It would be a good time to get in the ocean but I’m on a shark watch. Shower and salty tears will suffice. I have to change this energy. There are things to do. And that patio isn’t gonna wash itself.