Friday, March 8, 2013

Going to the Shelter

Frankie hasn’t come to live with us yet. Kirt, my husband has been hospitalized in San Juan. Daily treks between the hospital and home to take care of the dogs were a burden, but these are my dogs. I couldn’t just leave them out all day, even if I had to drive a hundred sixty miles each day.
Adri invited the dogs and me to stay with her for the duration of Kirt’s hospitalization. The lady with the big heart took in more strays, one human and two canine. With a fifteen minute drive I can visit the girls, enjoy some down time and get back to my husband.
Blondie, my experienced street girl walked into the yard of dogs greeting the biggest first. Chi-Ping’s hackles raised and her tail tucked. It was clearly an oh, shit expression. She searched the fence for a way out, found none and began to look around. I knew she was terrified. I can only guess at how she had been kept before she came my way. Being a fifteen pound dog in a yard with big dogs is probably intimidating enough without baggage. Street dogs know how to get along, so I didn’t worry when I left to go back to the hospital.
The doctors make rounds about five in the morning, so it’s easier just to stay the night rather than take a chance of missing them. When I returned the next morning, the girls were in the house with Adri’s canine cadre. My furry friends from my last visit greeted me with my girls, who looked comfortable in their environment. After a quick shower I noticed that Chi-Ping was waiting at the door, another clear expression. Blondie stayed close to me.
When Adri returned from running errands, I could see the affection Blondie and Chi-Ping already feel for her. These are two friendly enough dogs, but not over the top suck up canines by any means. Other friends have sweet talked them without more than a polite response from the girls. Dogs fall in love with Adri more for her loving positive energy than her high pitched happy talk, which I must say is pretty darn good.

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