help these dogs-tightrope

ABC Dog School

HELP THESE DOGS

2007 - Tightrope

What do you do when the abuser lives next door, loves helping people, leads the Sunday School lesson every week, invites you to family get-togethers, supplies you with water when your well collapses, and could get angry if you aren't careful, thus preventing you from helping any more of the dogs? You walk a tightrope.

    Fortunately there were no puppies in 2006, and that's a miracle under the circumstances. I kept my fingers crossed for 2007, but one day in late summer I discovered Star in the 6X8 with puppies. I couldn't tell how many, but at least one spotted one. Later I saw a black and tan, who kept getting out of the pen.

   Three of these puppies were put in the Yorkie pen, and I think there may have been some in the rabbit pen, too. One afternoon, the trio in the Yorkie pen got out and went on a great adventure. Off they went across the unmowed yard, curly little tails waving gaily over their backs, heads held high. This is what I remembered the following spring as I watched them suffer.

   Later, when I was in the front dog yard, they came up to the fence to greet me; a white one with spots, and two brownish ones. So cute! I wondered how they could be so friendly when they get no attention or socialization. The spotted one poked his little nose through the fence and let me touch him. See how things turned out for him in the photo essay pages, One Dog's Personal Hell.

    There was a brown dog from Star's first litter that I liked. After living in various places, he ended up in the dreaded Yorkie pen that summer. I came home on one of the hottest days of the year to find he was caught on the fence and could not get to shade even if there had been any. I don't know where his water was. He was panting furiously.

   I called the Mrs. and told her he was in danger of heat stroke. She didn't seem to believe there was a problem, and said she'd just been out to water him. Does that mean she put water where he could reach it, but didn't bother to unsnag his cable? She did move him into the trees, where he spent a couple of days without shelter, and then it was back to the pen where he endured another day in the high 90's.

    Sometime later, he was moved to a spot in the trees with a horrible dog house, where his cable was often wrapped around trees or heavy weeds, and he couldn't get to the box. I would see him sleeping on the ground in the rain. On a cold day, right before Thanksgiving, he slept on top of the box in pouring down rain all day. The box was obviously too gnarly to be of any use to him.

    And that was the day I called the pound and said that if something wasn't done about the dogs, I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Apparently someone came, because he had a different box after that. But it didn't seem to help.

   That same day, about 11:30 PM, I heard a dog yapping in the woods. I walked down the road and found one of the spotted dogs snagged in the trees, down in a ravine across from the neighbor's property. I don't know why they ignored him. I got them out to rescue him, and while I was there, Star got out of the pen, with no cable to spare, and a black and tan puppy was running around the yard.

   In December, the brown dog got loose and came to my house. His collar was so tight that I thought at first it was imbedded in his neck. He patiently let me work on it until I got it loosened up. I wanted so bad to keep him, but the Mrs. was out feeding and I knew she'd be looking for him. So I took a picture of him and left for work.

   When I came home for lunch, I saw that he'd had quite a lot of fun before his owner caught him. There was old clothing all over my yard so that I couldn't even get up the driveway. He'd dragged it out of my garage. On Christmas day, he was back. No one was home at his house, and I was leaving, too, so I put him in a pen to keep him and my belongings safe.

   He was in the pen Annie had used, and the Mrs. left him there for a week, coming over to feed him. Then she called and asked if I still wanted him, and, of course, I said yes! She said her husband told her to let me have him. One more safe! They called him Buster. I call him Grizzle.

    I dreaded winter because the dogs were often unable to get to their boxes. A yellow male was moved to Buster's vacated box, but that didn't last long. The temperatures dipped into single digits, and unlike Buster, who bore his miseries in silence, this boy was very vocal. He barked off and on all night long because he couldn't get in out of the cold.

   I didn't get much sleep that night worrying about him. His owner must have got the message, because he was moved to another location after that. But this was just the beginning of the new year. It just gets worse and worse.

Buster's Digs, November 2007 That's him sleeping on the ground in the rain, left of the tree.

Not sure what kind of barrier this is supposed to be. Dog goes in and out on cable. Here he was caught and couldn't get to his box. November 2007

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