Overview of Puerto Rico's Dog Situation

On my first trip to Puerto Rico I saw a dog in the street and said to my friend, Gloria, “Quick let’s go pick up that dog and take it to Animal Control.”

Gloria laughed, which I thought strange from a fellow dog lover.

“This isn't like Illinois,” is all she said and so the subject was forgotten. She showed off her island home. We fell in love. Soon we were living in our new island home, watching a Border Collie chase cars at the bottom of our driveway.

Whereas the states have coyote, raccoon, and fox, the island has free ranging dogs and cats, most obviously the dogs.

Picture twice a year the chaos of gang banging bitches on the street corner and elsewhere; followed by dazed starving pups wandering in the road – not nature’s finest moment.

Unlike truly feral creatures like fox, raccoon, and coyote, dogs just want to hang on the porch, bark alarm and be fed. Most belonged to someone as a puppy.

Since 2005 I’ve seen many dogs including Chi-Ping be dumped by their people. This sadly is the single largest source of dogs wandering our streets. Strange observation is that I've never seen a neutered animal dumped by an owner.

Discarded pets with little chance of survival wandering the beaches and roads in search of a meal, water, and a safe place to sleep, compete with seasoned street dogs. Life in paradise is harsh, but nature being prolific their numbers increase to the point that for health and safety; something must be done.

Historically, and not just here, some guy mixes up a poison cocktail, ameliorating the dog population problem for the moment. This practice outlawed by law 154 seems to have decreased.

I would love to know the number of dogs collected and euthanized each year. If anyone reading this knows, please, tell.

The way this was explained to me is that each pueblo has a dog collection fund. At I believe the amount is $50 per dog, the dog collection outfit contracted with the municipality collects and euthanizes dogs until it hits the limit at which time work ceases, until the next funding cycle. This I believe is the government’s answer for Animal Control in Puerto Rico.

Puerto Rico has a large population of animal lovers and advocates. Adrienne Galler Lastra, the president of Amigos de Los Animales de Puerto Rico, mentored me through my earliest days learning about the dog problems here.

 I am in awe of the rescuers, so many loving people, who take in an unbelievable number of stray dogs. They spend their lives caring for hundreds of dogs in their homes and making them available for adoption; it becomes their life.

The Satos, Puerto Rican Island Dogs have guardian angels, who make regular rounds feeding feral dogs.

No overview of the dog situation in Puerto Rico would be complete without acknowledging Animal Cruelty Investigators like Alma Febus or Iris Quinoines, President of OICA, the Organization of Animal Cruelty Investigators.

Spay/Neuter Clinics sponsored by various organizations like Amigos de Los Animales and PAWS are popping up all over the island.

I’m encouraged to see the love and level of involvement coming from the people. This island has a big heart.

Yesterday on my drive to San Juan the roads were littered with moms and puppies searching for food.

Back Home on Sato Hill

We just returned from a road trip to Auntie Adri’s in Carolina. Once home the gang banged down the hill to check out the status of the neighborhood.

Given how late in the day, I planned to let them fast through the night and feed breakfast. Kibble stays in the gut up to fourteen hours, so a fast is good for them.

Blondie and Chi settled on the sofa, Robert Redford and Lucky in the chairs. Seemed like the right plan, until Lucky trotted through the house with the measuring cup in his mouth, the cup I use to scoop his dog food. He came into the back bedroom, dropped the cup in my lap and returned to the kitchen to sit by the bag of dog food, where the others joined him.

The dogs had spoken. Nonverbal communication reigned. Over dinner Robert Redford commented how smart a human I was to be able to relate the scoop with it being time to eat.  Chi mentioned how difficult human training is in general.

The Soul of an Animal Activist

“Hiiiiiiee!!” The welcoming call goes with outstretched arms and a big smile. A yard full of barking dogs echoes her excitement. She shuffles to the gate, takes a cha-cha step, opens the gate, does a twirl, her greeting completes with a rocking hug.

If you’re sensitive to the energy around you, you feel the love the dogs share with this woman. Dogs left in the street, starving and diseased wander her yard healthy with full bellies.

No matter how bad your day, and I’ve seen her on far too many personally bad days, you feel soothed by her hug. She loves in a way that’s more than mere words.She is love. You just want to take a deep breath, so you could breathe in love.

The Puerto Rican Island Dogs are her passion; rescuing them and improving their lives is the greatest work of her life. She wears her zeal like a coat of many colors giving her authority when dealing with government officials with whom she reasons to provide for a common good. Her efforts resulted in accredited education for Animal Control in Puerto Rico. In this effort she is not iron, but tempered steel.

The toll for this devotion comes constantly in the form of emails, text messages and phone calls. Coming home late night from a gig in another life’s passion, music, she has too often found a box of puppies in front of her gate. A penalty for people knowing of  her love for dogs she treats as a gift from God, but anger builds for people who don’t step up to do what’s right for the animals. People take advantage of her love and wash their hands like they've been responsible. That must seem at times impossible to bear.

A Day In the Life of Animal Activist Adri Galler Lastra

“Co-kee,” little frogs sing, roosters crow, “Get up, dawn is coming,” Adri Galler quietly checks her email. The sound of surf rushing the shore washes in the window. The dogs bark when eager volunteer Camille pulls in behind the Amigos de Los Animales’ van. Marcie, a volunteer from Hatillo with a drive of over an hour, sips coffee in her car while watching waves clamoring ashore.

The ugliness of dogs comatose and dying in the streets is set in the splendor of God’s creation, lush green vegetation; yellow, orange and pink happy colors behind which poverty breeds cruelty most foul. Focus on God’s goodness while saving the lepers of the dog community is a challenge.  

Pets and street dogs of the tsunami zone breed twice yearly, but for intervention led by Adri Galler Lastra. Today dogs will be sterilized in a well organized trailer owned by Dr. Cruz, traveling veterinarian and his talented team.

Adri worked with the Department of Sports and Activities to get the basketball court, where a group of volunteers fill out necessary paperwork, while people file past the tables with pets on leashes or in their arms. In this poor neighborhood people have money for few frills for family, so sterilizing pets fell into no way, no how; until today. The community leaders assisting Adri and Dr. Cruz have an educational opportunity to make the next sterilization day an even bigger success by passing out fliers in the community and asking the people who come today to give the fliers to their friends and neighbors.

“Sing, Hallelujah,” for the core of folks who cared enough about their animals to do what is good for them. God made them that way; God will take care of them, seems to be what people say, so to see folks waiting anxiously for pets speaks of love in a way we can trust the most, action.

People of Pinones came together for our fellow creatures, led by Adri Galler Lastra, Animal Activist. Good job, everyone.

    

My Life Now by Chi-Ping

Who knew island life could be so hectic? Being the neighborhood guardians, Blondie and I cruise the street and woods searching for danger. Interlopers come from all directions. Teaching Lucky and Robert Redford to protect the porch while Blondie and I defend the bed is a task for which I did not ask. As much as I do like being mom’s companion on treks to the post office or store, keeping an eye on that woman tires a pup out.

THIF, Blondie and I did not let mom out of our sights. Going to the beach on Friday is the highlight of our busy schedule. All morning mom sat in front of her computer. Smoki, the cat, is right, she spends way too much time with that thing; it’s not normal. When she finally finished, closed it and put it in the bag; hmm, that means she’s taking the computer someplace rather than back to the bedroom as usual. Oh, well, who cares; it’s TGIF.

We pant impatiently outside the door, while mom hustles around inside. Blondie’s usually steady calm is nowhere to be found. This bitch can’t sit still; now, Robert Redford and Lucky want to know what she’s so panting and slobbering about. “Grrrr, none of your business,” only stimulated the adolescent boys, who wait to see what’s going on.

Mom only takes two dogs to the beach at a time. She says, if she takes more, we won’t listen to her. Like I listen to anyone, hah, she’s not the boss of me. Perhaps, I should hang back on that until after I’m selected to go to the beach. Damn, these two pups want to go and they’re both so much bigger now, they stand over me. I’m lost in the pack. I hate packs; I’m not a wolf. I have to nip some feet to get these critters to move.

Just the other side of the door, Smoki meows to be let out. Yes, let him out, so I can come in to be with you, please! My tails wags so fast as I watch mom walk briskly into the kitchen. Let the cat out; I’ll be your only companion, Mom!

Before long mom backed the SUV on to the carport, spread a nice thick quilt across the back and left the hatchback open. Blondie and I quickly jumped in. Mom put a suitcase in the back and Smoki’s litter box on the front floorboard. Sensing one of mom’s traps, I jumped out. I know how she is; she lets me think I’m in; I’m going, then grabs me and puts me in the house before she leaves. I’m wise to her games.  

After mom loaded more things, she closed the hatchback with Blondie in the back. She called me, but I held back. I can tell by the sound of her voice if her coaxing is true or she wants to sucker me to put me in the house, so I wait to hear what she has to say, but instead she turned to Lucky and put the lead over his head. “Good boy, come on get in the car.” Oh, my word, she’s taking him with Blondie! I scrambled in on her seat and was in the back before she could lift the scared Lucky in. I’m here first, I get to go, my tail wagged with my mouth hanging wide open; I get to go!

Mom closed the door leaving Lucky to find a spot out of our way. The door opened; there she was with Robert Redford in her arms all limp and scared. He hates cars like Lucky does. Wow, we’re all going to the beach; how cool is that?

Finally mom, hopped in the driver’s seat; we’re ready to go to the beach. Smoki? Why is the cat coming with and he usually travels in his crate; where’s it? Wondering, worrying gives way to tail wagging happiness; we’re going to my favorite place, the beach, the beach!

Mom! We should have turned back there at the light!  The beach, you missed the beach; where are we going? I put my paw on the window indicating where she should go, but she kept on driving, when she turned on to the autopista/tollway I knew we were going to the shelter, Amigos de Los Animales in San Juan by the airport, by the beach.

The air conditioning cooled my ardor for the beach; soon we all napped until each toll booth where I felt required to assist Blondie in barking at the people who took mom’s money. The boys barely raised their heads. 

Barking dogs greeted us, Auntie Adri welcomed us with happy, squeaky words we love to hear and good petting. Jadie, Goodie, and Cinderella barked wildly from in the house. My friends I’m visiting my friends for the weekend; what a lucky dog I am!

Anaplasmosis and Ehrlichiosis Strike by Chi-Ping

Lola started bleeding on carport floor. When mom came home, she studied Lola until she saw the blood dripping out of her nose. Where's the closest emergency veterinarian? After calling our Auntie Alma mom put Lola in the back of the SUV. She told me no, I couldn't go, but mom needs me, so I jumped in anyway. She told me get out, but that wasn't going to happen without a struggle, she saw how serious I was, so didn't waste time arguing, a good thing; blood now leaked out of Lola’s nose, she was weak.

I whimpered to let mom know my concerns. As much as I don’t usually like Lola, I snuggled next to her to keep her warm, mom sped down the twisty hill roads to the San Francisco de Asis Veterinary Hospital in Hatillo, where she told me firmly to stay in the car. The moon shined in through the roof mom left open for me. The smell of sick dogs made me shiver. Lola cried when they took her from mom, but was the only dog who seemed scarred, so I thought it was a good place for dogs.

 Mom brought me in the room when Lola went in the back to have blood drawn. When the doctor brought Lola back in the room with her head low, she looked like she could die. I stood in front of Lola, licked my lips and wagged me tail; don’t die Lola, you’re the only really big dog I can bully. I like you; don’t die.

Dr. Iris Vales, DVM, graduate of Ohio State took a deep breath, “There’s no easy way to say this,” she began. Mom’s eyes squeezed tight. “Be direct,” mom said in a subdued voice. The doctor looked sad, oh, no. That’s never good. My tail wagged little, short, fast, anxious waves. Mom and I both stared in her eyes, wondering what the vet would say. “We can do many heroic things and Lola, may still not make it.” The words hung in my brain; we just lost dad, and Lefty’s gone, well, he's not dead, but I miss him; now Lola, my mouth opened and closed in disbelief, as my tail jittered back and forth.

“Low platelets, low red blood cells, fever of more than one hundred five degrees,” Dr. Vales said as she showed mom the numbers. “Not enough oxygen to brain and vital organs; it’s not looking good. We could put her to sleep. It may be a kindness.”  

“If you treat her, what would you do?” Mom looked deep into the doctor’s face; she wanted to understand completely, she sat forward her head tilted slightly as the doctor spoke, “IV’s, antibiotics, Vincristine to grow platelets.” “How long before the Vincristine works?” mom interrupted. “Two days,” the doctor replied. “How about a transfusion; can you do that?”  The doctor nodded, but said, “Transfusion comes with its own risk.” To which mom said, “I know.” The doctor walked out the door to consult with a colleague, mom zoned out, so I walked around the room sniffing.

What’s a little dog to do about things? All I can do is sniff out what’s been going on in this room. I hope Lola doesn't die, and putting her to sleep doesn’t sound any better either. What’s mom going to do? I need to sniff the last little scent out of this corner, sniff, sniff.

Mom’s eyes opened, she smiled and reached down to pet me. I feel better already. Mom texted Adri and Alma, she says they are wise dog ladies. Whatever she read on the screen, her eyes half closed and her head nodded. She looked up as the doctor entered with a piece of paper in her hand, the estimate. People wonder what makes them different from us, money could be the answer. I jumped on the bench to sit next to mom. She took her glasses out to read the paper.  I felt her flinch. The doctor leaned against the examining table. Mom’s eyes studied the paper. I could tell by the doctor’s body language, she eagerly wanted to take care of Lola. Lola had a shot. The doctor’s aura said so, oh, mom!”

Mom saw it too, she smiled at the doctor as she told her to save Lola, she said she couldn't stand to lose another loved one that dad was more than enough loss, but they couldn't go over, she had no more money. It was late in the night when mom and I went home.    

My Visit to Tia/Auntie Adri by Chi-Ping

After a few days in San Juan I’m ready to just lie around, but some guys are cutting the grass. Lucky, Blondie, Robert Redford and I are doing our best to snooze, while that intense bitch, Lola trots from window to window checking; checking what, who the hell knows.

Sultry nights strolling the boardwalk, listening to the surf roar in; what could be better? Road trips to the city, a few days on the beach, in a word my kind of life, seem to be doing mom some good. On the boardwalk we stopped in the dark to look at the stars, mom cried, but not like before. Kirt, I miss you was all I heard her say.

Staying at Amigos de Los Animales can be fun, play bows and mouth duels with my best friend, Jade, who mom calls Jay- deee, good times are had by all, when Chi-Ping comes to challenge the Border Collie. This visit I got so excited about playing with Jade and Lucy I forgot about the badass beach bitches I had to walk past, well, with the big blonde girl backing you up, no worry, I held my tail straight up, stood tall and strut my stuff. Anyway, when mom walked in the yard they all wanted to say hello to her.

Tia/Auntie Adri makes such a big fuss when I came in that I felt like I just won "Best in Show." The woman knows how to make me feel special; I like that in her. After my wonderful welcome, all they talked about was photo day and planning another fund raiser for Amigos de Los Animales, a Halloween Party and the dogs get to come, hurray! I get to come.

Who ever heard of a costume contest for dogs? There’s going to be a costume contest for dogs! I’m going to go as a bee; I’ll be the best bumble bee. No, mom just told me, I’m not eligible for the contest. Some lucky dog will get my prize, the prize I wanted. And what costume could be better than a bumble bee? We’ll just wait and see.

Thanks for reading,

Chi-Ping

My Purpose by Chi-Ping

Pouring rain, lightning, and thunder; I’m parked next to mom on the bed. Blondie holds vigil in the hallway.

Mom took off most the few days we’ve been home. I scooted past her as she went out the door. Dancing with glee I jumped in the SUV. I knew we were going someplace good. Mom tucked me under her arm, plopped me inside the door, and left without me; no fooling.

Being home with a fresh bowl of water and kibble to spare isn’t the worse fate for a dog, so I’m not complaining, but I’m supposed to be taking care of mom. Dad told us that over and over. Blondie said we were to take care of the house and the cat; the cat?? I have to protect the cat? Blondie swears that’s what mom said to her very seriously. Protect the cat is what Blondie intends to do, so we protect the cat. Grrrr…

When we were at Tia/Auntie Adri’s I ran along the Atlantic Ocean, the briny air burned in my nose. I danced down the shore with waves licking my toes. Yahoo, it’s good to be alive. I’m a happy dog. I’m a happy dog; see my tail mom. Mom, what, Mom? Don’t cry. I had to show her how sad I was, how much I miss dad; I put my head down, my ears back, and my tail down. Before I could fall to my side, she scooped me up; I love to be scooped up by her,  she smiled and then wiped tears from her eyes.

Once we were tied together we had lunch on the shore at Soleil Beach Club. Yoo-hoo, my tail was so high; my nose was in the air. We’re having lunch at a beach club. Nobody has given me a cross look or thrown my little boriqua butt out. If I had known we were going out, I’d have rolled in something special. By the time we got to the table my knees got shaky. I didn’t know what to do, so I froze in place under mom’s chair.

She sensed my overloaded nerves; talking in quiet tones she told me how good I am. This always cheers me, but when the waiter came I ducked. I can’t go anywhere, I’m tied to mom. Panic! “Good dog, Chi,” mom’s cheerful voice calmed me, but I’m not moving. I’m just going to be still here under this chair. That’s my mom in the chair, if it makes a difference.

Sniff, sniff, my nose raised to capture the scent of calamari coming my way, my way. Oh, no, I’m not moving. I know what happens. Mom and dad are the only ones we feel safe to eat when they’re very close to us. I need my space to eat. I’m not asking for any food; anyway, we get nothing then, but she’s a sucker for sad looks given ever so patiently. Chi scores! Smile, but I’m too scared to move, even when the waiter walked away.

Mom put a saucer of water down for me, like it would be okay for me to drink in here; nah, I’m not taking any chances. Mom’s pretty cool and all, but I understand dominance better than she does. This guy worried me. He set the calamari on a low table inches from my nose. Is this some sort of torture? I turned to get a closer sniff, when that waiter man came again.

My crazy mom put the calamari beside her on the bench with spaces between the boards. My nose could almost touch the plate. It smelled divine. A small piece fell to the floor just out from under my chair. Nah, I’m too scared. Mom put her feet up on the low table, imagine. The waiter passed our section I tensed, couldn’t touch the calamari. Chunks of crispy coating that smelled like heaven dropped into a pile. My mouth watered. The waiter was standing at a counter not far from us. “What a good girl,” mom whispered. A whole calamari ring landed on top of the pile splattering the crispy coating.

A dog can only take so much. I sprang to the tempting pile, began to gobble when what must be the best waiter in Puerto Rico came back with the check.  How un-nerving, but I ignored him, when mom told me again how good I am; he didn't matter.

At Soleil planning Photo Day fund raiser for Amigos de Los Animales

Life in Pinones jumped in my face each morning like a pack of dogs, well actually, it is a pack of dogs. Amigos de Los Animales Rescue and Shelter has about fifty dogs for adoption. I made some friends.

We went home and then returned to Auntie Adri’s and home again. Lefty, the little yellow boy left in the parking lot of an abandoned bar along the road mom drug home, stayed at Amigos.  Mom said we’re it; she can’t keep any more dogs. He’ll be up for adoption. I’ll miss Lefty. He had manners, not like these two cur boys here. Lefty knew how to sit waiting politely for his treats. Everybody gets their treats faster when we all cooperate.

Dad’s spirit is here with us. Blondie and I feel him. Blondie is still really sad that he’s not here to rub her. I think he’s just as cool as a spirit. We’re worried about mom

This Dog Is Stressed by Chi-Ping

The pressure is more than a little dog can take. On a normal day care must be taken, so none of the newcomers get in my spots. Do I need to tell you how aggravating it is to see Lucky curled up on my favorite pillow? Or the sinking feeling you get when you toddle towards the food dish only to see the big bitch, Lola, finishing the last kibbles, when I feel like a knash.

Both in heaven, Kirt & Stormy

Nothing normal since poppy died. For days we all laid around depressed, listening to mom cry. Blondie and I took our positions around her on the bed. Pop always told us to take care of mom, now I know why. Even in his wheelchair he was the man in charge, but don’t get me wrong he was the gentlest loving man I ever met in my life….by far. We were so sad, but dogs don’t cry the way you humans do. We held the pain in our hearts and slept.

Robert Redford got guardy. If a gecko rustled the plant leaves, he was all: ruff, ruff. He ran around the house in search of something to attack. The boy killed a rat and two frogs in three days. “Red,” the bad assed golden retriever puppy, challenged Geri, when he came up to do something on the porch. Grrr, ruff-ruff with hackles momma’s pretty boy seriously thought he’d prevent this man from coming on our porch. The boy’s young, he doesn’t know men very well, yet.

Auntie Adri came before too long, yes, I call her auntie; my family has grown, to take us to Amigos de Los Animales in Pinones, which is all the way across the island by car. I love Auntie Adri; she sings and she pets good. Mom smiled for the first time, when Auntie Adri said something. Mom smiled that’s a good thing. Thank you, Auntie; I didn’t know how I would ever get my loving mom to smile again.

Bad Day by Chi-Ping

The second Sunday in July began like any other; mom looked on the floor in the spare room to see if I had an accident, as we walked to the door. Blondie and I made our rounds inspecting the neighborhood. Lola, Lucky and Robert Redford stayed close to the house waiting to be fed. Blondie and I would be back before the third bowl hit the floor.

Some time later, we were sniffing around up the hill, when we heard mom scream and yell. Before we could get home she came flying, I mean going fast for her down the hill hollering, “Ayuda me!” My ears went back, it scared me. I jumped at her leg as she hurried back to our house. What was happening; I wanted to know. The door slammed in my face, when I tried to walk in with her. What’s wrong with her?

“Kirt,Kirt!,” mom cried, then we ran to the patio outside the bedroom windows. I couldn't hear dad. His scent changed, we knew he was in trouble. Lucky and Red hid in the bushes nearby with wide eyes peering out. Blondie, Lola and I went into guard mode.

A man in a uniform stayed in his car in front of the house. We bounced and barked surrounding the car. “No,” mom commanded in a tone that set us back on our tails. “Hurry, hurry!” she repeated to the man over and over again. Soon other people arrived. Lola and the puppies barked, defending the door. Lucky’s hackles were up like the little boy was seriously defending his home. Lola barked, but I could tell she wasn't too sure about what she was doing. Mom told us, “NO,” before and that was good enough for me and Blondie; we know the woman. What was wrong with dad? His scent lacked vital force.

Mom yelled in Spanish and in English at people in uniforms. We stood ready to protect, but when mom started crying we didn’t know which way to go. We wanted to get in the house to comfort her. Mom and dad’s friends, the dog lover ladies, Alma and Adri arrived. Mom screamed and cried while telling them that the uniformed people wouldn’t help dad.

People from the neighborhood filled the yard and began coming into the house. Blondie, Lucky and I streaked in with some. A uniformed man waived us away from the bedroom with dad, mom, friends and uniformed people. Blondie and I know death when we smell it. Lucky ran outside to hide under the car. The only other death he ever smelled was his sister a couple of weeks ago.

It can’t be dad; he’s the greatest dad in the world. His scent was flat. Mom sobbed, wailing so hard I waited for her to howl, so I could howl with her. The uniforms retreated to the porch for a smoke. Blondie tiptoed into the bedroom, where dad sat slumped over in his wheelchair, ash grey. I stood there looking up at him, when my turn came. No more scratches behind the ears from those hands. No more sweet words from his lips. My tail dropped to the lowest, since the day I was dumped here.  I touched my nose to his leg to fill it with his scent one last time.

Farewell, friend to all, father of the furry kidz and all round great guy,

Clure “Kirt” Carr, July 14, 2013 RIP

We love you,

Chi-Ping, Blondie, Smoki, Lucky, Robert Redford, Lola

And “Mom”

My Time As a Street Dog by Chi-Ping

Blondie, Stormy and I ate leftovers, but there was never enough. We scoured the neighborhood for whatever we could find.  Stormy taught Blondie the art of ratting. She hunted with confidence when we met. As a natural, my skills were impressive from the beginning, given my family heritage, ahem Rat Terrier here! Life was wild and exciting, until Stormy got killed.

Blondie said when the Americans come back; they would feed us every day. We sleep on their porch most nights. Blondie believed they were good people even if she didn't see them for months at a time. What good are people, if one day they’re here and the next they’re not? I only met them the day they took me to the vets for fixing. I wasn't impressed.

Blondie and I tagged along with Geri, while he picked bananas. Next thing I knew Blondie tore down the hillside barking, “They’re here. They’re here.” She squealed and wiggled all over the place. I don’t know why I got excited. It’s catchy. These folks keep a dog fed, but who the hell can understand them. They speak English; something must be wrong with them. Every morning she plays a good morning game with Blondie, who gets silly and wiggly. It’s fun, but when I got silly, I bit her hand, she didn't like it. What did she expect? We were playing.

Full bellies, brushing and petting, treats Blondie and I were two happy street dogs. I don’t need to be in anybody’s house. A piece of cardboard to curl up on suits me just fine. We hang with people, when they’re doing something interesting, and they’re being nice. I’ll sleep on your porch or under the stars. It makes no difference to me.

The day the Animal Control Officers, Adri Galler and Alma Febus came to visit changed everything. Adri took the two collies living in the street with us to the Shelter Amigos de Los Animales. They talked to the lady who has many small hairy dogs. People growl, too; did you know that? Adri and Alma talked to all the neighbors. They didn't want us. They didn't want us.  Alma and Adri asked Tricia what she wanted to do. Should they take us to the shelter? These ladies seem nice enough, but I didn't want to go. This is home. What is a shelter anyway?

Tricia said Blondie will be her dog. She loves her. Kirt told her that I would be no extra trouble and take me, so we went to the PetVet, Dr. Gwen, who fixed us. I didn't get sick like last time. A few days later Smoki, the cat and I were on a plane!

To be continued. Chi-Ping  

Amigos de Los Animales Needs Help

Hola Amigos,

Every puppy/dog coming through the doors of Amigos de Los Animales gets the kind of care Mary would have loved to see baby Jesus get at the inn. A gentle hand, a full belly, a place to sleep, and all the medical attention required.

Adri’s days start at 5 am to let the dogs out. If she’s not working at her job as a musician, she gets into bed around ten. That’s reasonable enough, but then she’s up throughout the night on the computer, as she thinks about getting this dog to a good home here or in the states, or someplace else. She agonizes about how to help the tourist, who found a starving dog and wants to find someone to be responsible for it. I've seen Adri offer to pay for dogs’ care on days I know she had nothing in the fridge to eat herself.

On days when she should be buying groceries for herself, she comes home with liver, yogurt, Karo Syrup, goats’ milk to make puppy formula to feed the sickly puppies dropped off in the morning. She looks like she could bawl her eyes out, not for her self deprivation but for the puppies she’s afraid she can’t save. Adri is not like us. We give what we can spare. She gives all she has.

Adri stays focused on her message about the dogs. Adri is always about the animals. She says it’s not about the people it’s about the dogs. She gives me a stern look when I say it’s about the people too.

Adri is paying shelter bills out of her own pocket to the point that she doesn’t have her hard earned money to pay her personal bills. She’s not the type to tell you that. Adri’s loving care extends beyond the animals. She took me and my critters in when my husband, Kirt, was having his leg amputated. And she says it’s not about the people…

I saw the hard choices she’s made in favor of the dogs because I was there.  She delights in new kennels donated for the dogs while the home of Amigos de Los Animales, her home is beyond normal maintenance. She needs help. Big help, now.

I’ve lived in or around Chicago most of my adult life, Chicagoans are a cynical lot, we don’t admire much.  If you’ve read my blogs, you know I admire this woman enormously, which is why I support her shelter when I live in Quebradillas. Close to home she’s not for me, but I believe in her.

We are amigos de los animals because we love animals, we are the amigos. Please, give to Amigos de Los Animales because the animals and our amiga need help.

Muchas gracias,

Patricia Carr

www.amigosdelosanimalespr.org

Click on paypal

  

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Tongue hanging out, slobbering, scarred out of his mind, a black pit bull tried to get small in the corner of a two foot patch of grass just off the road in front of my neighbor’s house. It hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago, when we went in the house to make breakfast. The “pittie” had the freshly dropped off what the hell just happened look.

My first concern was that perhaps it had been hit. I’m pretty sure that Kirt and I would have heard a dog get hit at the bottom of our driveway, but to make sure I went down with a bowl of water. The dog stood up, turned around to change position. Movement looked fine, so I delivered the water to the shade on my side of the road, while saying what a good dog we had here in my sweet tone. Directly across the road from the dog I splashed the water with my fingers. The dog moved it’s head like it was trying to focus to the sound. This creature could be blind, but I think it is just scarred, so I put the water a few feet in front in a little shade. Non comprehending blood shot eyes searched for a way to climb the wall. I quickly retreated.

Friday, when we came home from the hospital in San Juan where Kirt spent the last two months, a cute little wire hair Chihuahua acted like the resident street dog barking and running around the house with her tail tucked. This drop off tried to claim a spot here. Blondie and Chi-Ping were still at Adri’s, so I began making friends with the toy dog that hadn’t been here two weeks ago, when I last came home.

Saturday Blondie and Chi burst out of Adri’s van with glee. Woof-woof, we’re home. There went the Chihuahua down the drive with resident bitches in hot pursuit. Blondie allowed the interloper to hide in the garage at the end of the driveway and galloped up to inspect her house. Our neighbor put the small dog in my cat’s crate for Adri to transport to her shelter, Amigos de Los Animales.

Sara, the adorable beige and white wire Chihuahua will have a health exam, vaccinations and required treatment compliments of Amigos. The lucky girl met Adri Galler, rescuer extraordinaire. Adri’s eyes sparkle when she sees an adoptable dog, as she seems to envision the wonderful life she’ll be able to facilitate for a charismatic creature. Last week Adri rescued a smooth coat Chihuahua of similar color she named Suniva, who will enjoy playing with Sara. They’ll look so cute playing together. J

Thanks, Adri, for taking the cutie. Now, let me check out the new arrival.  

Protecting Resources

Like Storm Troopers, Blondie and Chi-Ping tore out of Adri’s van in search of the dog, whose scent gave her away the moment the girls pulled in the driveway after two months of being at Amigos de Los Animales Shelter in Pinones. Within seconds they were on her, stinging her with nips driving her to the garage at the bottom of the driveway before coming to my call, which sing halleluiah; they came.

A perpetually full bowl of food for over a year has changed Blondie in that she no longer stands over the bowl to protect it. Blondie still alerts when Chi approaches the bowl. If Blondie remains tense with eyes focusing on her, Chi-Ping knows of Blondie’s disapproval, which means walk away, and sneak back later to Chi-Chi. Today Blondie exhaled audibly, turned her head away, and laid down. Chi stopped, picked her head up, looked at Blondie, a tiny cock of her head, and then Chi-Ping strode to the dish knowing she had Blondie’s approval. It was the first time I’ve ever seen her give Chi-Ping anything more than covert approval, which always looked like eat, if you must, but I’m not going to like it.

The effect of being hungry stays with you for a long time. You never want to feel that again. It’s a motivator. Blondie protects her resources with gusto, so Adri rescuing the little Chihuahua trumps me working with Blondie to accept small creatures she can shag out of the neighborhood in a heartbeat. I have my hands full at the moment with my husband recovering from surgery.

I would say that she pushes out the smaller dogs, but Blondie never bothered with Chi-Ping when she tumbled on to the hill. Stormy, our first Sato, was a small Border Collie. She adored him. Figuring out what pushes the buttons, that’s the challenge. Hey-ho, dogs be with you.

Escape From the Shelter by Chi-Ping

        Never go for car rides. That’s what the street dogs told me. I told
Blondie this, but she wouldn’t listen. That bitch loves to ride in the car. Last week we were loaded up and taken to a shelter in Pinones.

Friendly dogs welcomed us. It’s a good place. We’re all well treated here, but I don’t want to be a shelter dog.

I wanted to go home, so as soon as I got the chance, I scooted out the gate and ran for freedom. I didn’t know which way to go. I headed south along the ocean. My caretakers were in hot pursuit, but I was faster. The sun beat down on my black coat, but I didn’t let that slow me down. I trotted across streets looking for the way home. These boys just didn’t give up. I didn’t have a second to get my bearings, so I kept moving. The road ended at a cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Big waves splashed below. I didn’t know what to do. As I stood there trying to figure out my next move, one of the boys scooped me up. A well delivered stinging nip didn’t cause him to put me down the way I’d hoped. He handled me gently, so I didn’t bite hard, maybe, I should have. I want to go home. I didn’t know how happy I was, now all I can think about is my home on the hill with poppy and mom. Yes, she’s my human mom. I love them. I just want to go home.

 Before long I was back in the shelter. The boys were cleaning again. The other dogs stood around or were playing. How could they stand being ripped from their homes? Why weren’t they as upset as I was?

The dogs at the shelter were starving on the street when Adri picked them up. They were very happy to be here. When Adri walks through the kennel all the dogs look at her with adoring eyes. Adri is a loving lady. I like her very much, but I want to go home. I never want to go on another car ride again in my life. I told Blondie.

Mom comes to visit every other day. Sometimes she spends the night with us. She said that poppy is in the hospital. We’ll go home when he gets out. I can’t wait. Meanwhile Adri pets me under my chin and tells me how beautiful I am. Life in the shelter isn’t bad, but I can’t promise I won’t run away again.  

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.

Dog Women, The Rescuers

In her book "Women Who Run with the Wolves" Clarissa Pinkola Estes talks about the untamed female spirit, the wild side of our nature. These are the kindred spirits of women who live with the dogs.  

The “Dog Women” have strong loving spirit connecting them to nature, to the beings which have adopted us as their own. Some are the strong wild wolf spirits and others may be timid shy women, but all have loving hearts open toward God’s creatures.

“What a face,” these women exclaim when gazing at the features of an animal.  More than appreciating looks or personality women who live with dogs are concerned with animal welfare. They are the activists, the animal rescuers.

I had the opportunity to spend the weekend with one such ‘Dog Woman,” Adri Galler Lastra of Amigos de Los Animales in Carolina, Puerto Rico.

Adri’s day begins early with cleaning and feeding her rescues. These are the dogs whose lives she’s saved. As we feed, she tells me each dog’s story. It’s clear that each one is special. Her keen gaze inspects the animal for subtle changes in condition. One dog with modest eye discharge gets drops swiftly inserted, a pet on the chin and she’s on to the next.

A man shows up at her gate to turn over a litter of puppies to her care. The phone begins to ring. The life of this animal activist is busy. On Monday she’ll take four dogs to the vets to prepare for their trip to the states. Forever homes await the lucky dogs.  

With the morning chores completed, we walk to the beach with a couple of Adri’s senior dogs, swimming for arthritic joints, Adri calls this down time.  

For Dog Women such as Adrienne Galler this labor of love has become a way of life. Her canine charges look at her with adoring eyes. God has a special place for women like Adri.