One of Those

it hits sometimes

The day to day of tending my own flock can hold me in a bubble. Fleeting happiness. Pseudo joy. Sorta contentment. They do lots of cute and wonderful dog things. Make me laugh. Share a papaya. Learn a new skill.

Brindie and The Papaya

Adoption for Frasier this week was official and a wonderful photo of him with his new family in Scottsdale, AZ made me well up like a mom who had a kid win the blue ribbon for tap dancing. A kid that no one believed in with two left feet, making the big time.

intake day

his swan song

Frasier was certainly high on the cute factor as he grew into his oversized ears that all these desert dogs seem to have. He looked like a black Fox with tan tips and white socks. Frasier knew how to carry himself. A friend said he had "Cattitude" and it was true. He did what he wanted and was always first to get fed by standing on my feet and licking my knees (so irritating) and for not running away exactly but sorta taking himself out when he wanted and then coming back in ten minutes to knock on the door. He chewed up a couple leashes just hanging near the door and his own collar once and here he was looking like a stud with these fit beautiful people with a new set turquoise collar, leash and new tag with his name on it. Like a little Prince! 

Everyone loved how he was such a gentleman and I'm glad he remembered his training and I wonder if he'll be a putz in the kitchen with his new mom. Niles isn't adopted yet but is getting a lot of action…I hope it's soon. It's the only way to get these dogs into potential homes…by taking them out of my home rescue haven in this AWFUL town and putting them in a little boutique "shelter" for more exposure in a nice town in Arizona. It seems counterintuitive but I'm not sure an adoption without meeting is a good idea. So that's how to get a rumpled street dog off the side of a desert highway in Mexico into a beautiful life and home with plush dog beds all over the place. It’s been 2 years of calling and asking and networking to hit this milestone.

I felt good about this unplanned mission from DOG I've been called to do. I’m helping!

And then I leashed up for morning walkies. Little Shop of Street Dog Horrors

Snoopy has a bloody eyeball partially hanging out. Butter is limping. Dingo looks like she had the puppies but sat dejected and sad in a doorway with dry teats and no pups around. The mini Blue Brindle is still living under a car and won't come out and the feral puppies near the shore have increased in numbers and maturity so much that it is a nuisance to walk down there for sure, if I didn't know them—FoxHead, Dreads, MamaDreads, Square, YelloFello, Coyote Slim and others yet to be named…12-18 we'll call them. I'm sure they'll be dealt with by the people who live down there or the mostly worthless police dude. (*yes it's illegal to poison dogs in Mexico as of Jan 2023…and who's gonna snitch on the mafia?)

Or they'll be run over or just starved out. A dog can survive on the beach if they don't get Sarna or distemper from eating raw fish. More dogs means more competition and more fighting can be heard at night and early mornings. Usually over a female. Puppies represent a threat so they can be offed pretty quickly if mama dog isn't diligent.  I do what I can to feed the outsiders but I get in trouble for doing it. It’s not a solution to anything.

In a nutshell it's a real huge bummer and derailed whatever temporary success and joyful feeling I had. You can never rest in this rescue work, you'll never get ahead, two irresponsible monsters in town who can't keep an in season female in a closed area for 5 days will result in 24 new puppies in a couple months. Maybe half survive. Then there's back yard breeders (roofs mostly, there are no back yards) and they sell what they think is popular…underweight pugs and pits, and then the ones that don't sell they toss out on the street and so on and so on. If I had a monthly van come to town to take dogs to better places, I’d still be full. Despite the efforts and posters and Spay and Neuter signs and bringing a vet here monthly to offer low cost campaigns and calling on the government to offer something, anything. 

Nothing happens.

The worst fate on these dogs is being born here. I know there are childern digging Cobalt in a mine for our phones right now in the same shit. I was dropped here. A place with no resources and no vet and with people who are ignorant, poor and likely in despair on their own. They see the dogs as a threat to their meals too. I often hear, "I can barely take care of myself how can I feed a dog?" and of course I understand, but giving a dog a bowl of fresh water is FREE and one egg could sustain a little and table scraps and tortillas are $1 for 1kilo. Come on. I get it. I do. But I also know that the beer store is the busiest place in this entire pueblo. it’s a shit place to live and I understand the drinking. But the cruelty. No excuse. The wealthy shopkeepers don't feed or care for their dogs either. The dudes who own the only food stores in town let their intact males wander and copulate everywhere so there's dobie or german shepherds in every litter and rampant venereal disease. And I have to give Big Shep a hotdog or a snack every time I see him he's so thin.

Today it felt different. Today they looked hopeless. I'm probably reading too much into it. The contrast from feeling yay! to the reality right around the corner widened the margin I guess. I care for 12 on a daily. 2 have moved to AZ. So there are 10. And I could likely bring in 20 more this afternoon. But the landlord is renting out more rooms and he's said, moving OUT is the goal not taking in more. And honestly I've even been looking in the US to find a home and bring all of these hounds with me. Of course I need a van and a destination and ungodly money to rent in an overpriced market but I can't stay here and swim against the tide of indifference any longer. I could go to another town in Mexico that was "nicer" but I know what that means. They have scooped the dogs up and put them at the edge of town or euthanized them in some gross shelter or sold them as taco meat. 

And yea there are stray problems in the US (and a lifestyle I’m not super interested in returning to) but maybe I can help and be more effective networking there with like minded folks speaking the same language…this is a huge ship to turn around. And even if there was ONE person in town who was an ally? I can't feel like I'm failing every single day of 756 days. And I can't afford to keep bringing butcher bones to the dogs on the street but I'm gonna. Because selfishly I have to make myself feel better.