Can being plain, pudgy, and middle-aged save your life? It did Ginger’s

Ginger is saving some smiles just for you

There are lots of plain, pudgy, middle-aged dogs in shelters across the country, passed over by prospective adopters and ultimately euthanized because they lack prettiness and pizzazz. But in the case of one such dog, her looks saved her life.

When Jennifer Hale and her colleagues at Save a Litter Pregnant Dog Rescue, Inc. saw a mass email about Ginger, a mellow, affectionate Labrador mix who had ended up on “Death Row” at a Georgia public shelter after her owner went to jail, they fell in love. (Even though Ginger was definitely not pregnant—just plump).

“She looked like a previous dog we adored,” said Hale.

And that’s all it took. The group promptly pulled Ginger from the shelter, and now Hale is fostering the sweet-natured dog in her home.

“Ginger is a precious shepherd/golden retriever mix who weighs about 65 pounds and is four years old,” said Hale in an email to Animal Policy Examiner (APE). “She has a sunny personality and loves to play, run, jump, lick, and get lots of loving from everyone she meets.”

“Ginger is great with other dogs, cats and kids,” Hale continued, “and is healthy in all aspects of her life.  The only thing she needs is a family with a heart big enough to see past her mixed breed.  She is spayed and fully vetted and ready for a new home.  There is no adoption fee for this gal but donations are appreciated.”

Will Ginger be difficult to place because she’s four years old—not a puppy?

“Age is not so much a factor as breed,” said Hale. “To me a purebred older dog is much more likely to find a home than a mutt older dog.”

But Hale believes that whoever adopts Ginger will be very lucky.

“We are so thankful that Ginger has crossed our path,” Hale said. “Ginger will make a great addition to any family and be an awesome asset to our society in general.  Dogs like Ginger really make you feel good that you are working hard to help save their lives."

Watch Ginger in action.

Read more about Ginger and the heroic shelter worker who networked to save her:

Ginger’s ‘dad’ went to jail - now she's on Death Row

Death Row dog gets rescued

Please consider adopting Ginger, and/or spread the link to this article.

To learn more about adopting Ginger or other wonderful dogs waiting for you, contact:

Jen Hale

Tel. (404) 99-SAVE 1

Email: jademoonnyte@gmail.com.

ALL PHOTOS AND TEXT BY KATERINA LORENZATOS MAKRIS (unless otherwise noted) 
COPYRIGHT 2012 -  Please feel free to spread the links to these articles, but reprint or re-post of anything more than a paragraph or two of text is allowable only by explicit permission from the author, who may be contacted at youradopteddog@yahoo.com. Thank you!

My rescue habit: can I give it up for Lent… and beyond?

If rescuing her is wrong, do I want to be right?

For those of Greek Orthodox faith or inclinations, Lent begins today.

“It is a time of self-examination and preparation,” according to the Reverend Father George Mastrantonis, posting on a Greek Orthodox Diocese of America website, “and of taking an inventory of one's inner life.”

Traditionally, Lent is a time of fasting, of giving up foods containing animal products, and of learning to get along without something you thought was necessary.

As a vegan, I never eat animals or things that come from them, so I decided to find something else to shed during my Lenten “self-examination and preparation.”

The sacrifice

For Lent 2012, I hereby give up NOT writing.

Yes, you read that right.  I’m giving up the silly habit of not writing—writing being one of the things in the world I love best, and also being the only thing I’m halfway decent at doing, which, therefore, could be interpreted as being the thing I’m supposed to be doing, whether by divine decree or simply by virtue of how I'm wired.

What does all this have to do with dogs, who are presumably the focus of The Dozen Dog Diaries?

Dogs have kept me from writing. 

Kali soon after I found her, starving so that all her ribs and vertebrae showed, and limping

The urge to rescue grows

Sometimes dogs provoke me to write. In fact, every single day, the thought of everything that dogs and other nonhuman animals suffer in this world sets me ablaze with the need to learn and write about them and about those issues.  

But sometimes, when I come face to snout with dogs in trouble, efforts to get them out of trouble bite off sizeable chunks of my time, so that when all is said and done each day, I can barely keep my eyes open or even think straight enough to write.

Even worse, loving dogs and other animals as dearly as many of us do can grow like ivy, so that one day you’re no longer able stop at loving and saving dogs or cats or pigs or chickens or monkeys or mice or birds or bees or dolphins or sharks or sea anemones or banana slugs, but find yourself loving and saving members of the absolute last species with whom you ever expected to get yourself mixed up.

The ones who can be a massive, royal pain to love, not to mention to save.

The ones who can muck up your life a heck of a lot worse than all of the others piled together.

You know very well who I’m talking about. Chances are you’ve gotten mixed up with loving and saving a few of them yourself.

It might have been your boyfriend or girlfriend or sibling or parent or cousin or aunt or your schoolmate or just some sad shredded scrap of a person you met somewhere. You stitched them back together and stuffed them with your most tender love and care. Then maybe they got so full and feisty that they gave you the old heave-ho. (At which point you proudly dusted off your hands and happily waved adieu. Right? Let’s hope.)

Meanwhile, just like ivy can strangle a tree, a rescue habit can grab you by your empathetic little neck and refuse to let go.

Tree-choking ivy

Saving ourselves

As beautiful as ivies might be—and they all are, both literally and figuratively; what can be more beautiful, in theory, than the compulsion to help someone in need?—sometimes, in order to keep on breathing, we have to peel them off.

It’s painstaking work, ivies being the tenacious things they are. You might have to go leaf leaf by leaf, tendril by tendril. Get out an axe for the thicker stalks.

But can you hack them off without losing parts of yourself? Your loving and caring parts?

Lent is as good a time as any for giving this a try. It’s a time to test yourself, to improve, to purify, and to question habits that have become a part of you, for better or for worse.

Some parts of a rescue fetish are for the better. Other parts are for the worse.

Maybe that’s the trick here. To figure out which are the worse parts of a potentially self-destructive habit or predilection, prune them away, and leave the better parts to spread and flourish, stronger than ever.

Wish me luck. If I can manage to keep my Lenten vow, you’ll see more frequent posts here.

Most important, thanks for reading. If anything’s going to help me keep that vow, compulsive overhelper that I am, it’s the notion that others might face similar problems, and that my posts might be of use.

Candles in a church on the island of Paros

ALL PHOTOS AND TEXT BY KATERINA LORENZATOS MAKRIS (unless otherwise noted) 
COPYRIGHT 2012 -  Please feel free to spread the links to these articles, but reprint or re-post of the photos, or of anything more than a paragraph or two of the text is allowable only by explicit permission from the author, who may be contacted at youradopteddogATyahooDOTcom. Thanks for visiting!

Should Iowa school allow kids to chase Gracie the 'comfort dog’? Do NOT try this at home (opinion)

Our foster pooch Kali loves kids, but would she tolerate being chased by a mob of them? We'd never ask her to.

Gracie, a golden retriever who works as a “comfort dog” for young students in an Iowa school, looks like about the mildest-mannered pooch you’ll ever see. But watching a CNN video of a dozen or more of those children chasing her around a gymnasium made my hair stand on end.

To me Gracie seemed a bit unsure about the romp at Trinity Lutheran Church and School, licking her lips and glancing around a little nervously. On the other hand, for all I know she might have been thoroughly enjoying herself. Yet a few questions troubled me.

Before I get to that list, I'll say that if you ask me, every school should have a comfort dog, not only to help students cope with disappointments and frustrations, as does Gracie, according to the CNN report. I’d love to see it go a step further, so that dogs assist in all youngsters’ humane education, teaching the importance of proper respect and care for our fellow earthlings.

Even better, wouldn’t it be something if such comfort dogs could be formerly homeless pooches who were carefully and lovingly selected, adopted, and nurtured for that work?

In any case, the Trinity school, as well as Lutheran Church Charities (LCC), which runs the K-9 Parish Comfort Dog program, deserve commendation for their innovative service that provides canine companions to enrich students’ and parishioners’ lives.

“A dog is a friend who brings a calming influence,” states the program’s Facebook page, “allowing people to open up their hearts and receive help for what is affecting them.”

Amen.

Now for my questions:

- Is there a responsible adult nearby at all times to make sure the kids, who are understandably high-energy, don’t intimidate or jostle Gracie during those chases and other activities?

- Is someone on hand to ensure the kids never overburden or crowd Gracie with unwelcome attention?

- Does Gracie get plenty of “down” time away from her duties?

- Do the adults as well as the children keep in mind that Gracie is neither a toy nor a tool, but a sensitive and intelligent individual with needs and rights of her own?

- Most troubling, will the CNN video indicate to millions of viewers that it’s perfectly fine to let a bunch of kids chase a dog? Will this scene be repeated in homes where the dogs turn out to be less mellow than Gracie? Will it lead to unpleasant or even disastrous encounters?

Asking too much of dogs?

A dog who is easy-going and tolerant of attention from folks of all ages throughout his life can suddenly change if he’s placed in a situation he perceives as threatening—for example being chased by several shrieking humans. Something like that might be too much to ask, and his reaction might be to defend himself.

Images that flash into my head are maulings for the kids, which of course would be followed by the dog paying the highest price, as dogs usually do in such cases—impoundment and a death sentence.

Go ahead, call me a worrywart. I know I’m borrowing trouble. But I’ve seen a few too many of the tragic results of humans failing to respect other animals’ reasonable limits.

All that said, I reiterate kudos to the Trinity school, to LCC, and most of all to Gracie herself, for being such a great sport and giving abundant love and solace to “her” kids.

She’s a better gal than me, that’s for sure. If I were in her paws, one chase like that and I’d be done. I’d stop running, whip around, and snap snap snap. Then there'd be stitches for my pursuers and courtesy accommodations at the local animal shelter for grumpy me.

More power to ya, sweet Gracie, for putting up with us humans.

Now you’ve heard my opinion on this question. What’s yours? Courteous comments are always welcome.

ALL PHOTOS AND TEXT BY KATERINA LORENZATOS MAKRIS (unless otherwise noted) 
COPYRIGHT 2012 -  Please feel free to spread the links to these articles, but reprint or re-post of the photos, or of anything more than a paragraph or two of the text is allowable only by explicit permission from the author, who may be contacted at youradopteddogATyahooDOTcom. Thanks for visiting!

Death Row dog finds a home

Ginger looks worried in this photo but is probably all smiles now

 (Photo: Henry County Animal Control Shelter)

On Valentine’s Day the news came from Betsy at the Henry County Animal Control shelter in Georgia:  Ginger was adopted!

Betsy deserves a paws up and canine kisses for this success story. Her heart broke when Ginger, a “fat, middle-aged,” sweet-tempered Labrador mix, was brought into the shelter because her owner had gone to jail. (See previous article.)

Through no crime of her own, Ginger was essentially “jailed as well,” as Betsy put it.

Typically, chances are miniscule for an older, relatively nondescript dog like Ginger to find a new home. Chances are a lot higher that they’ll end their days at a kill shelter. But Betsy took the extra time to network Ginger through her contacts and through the Internet, and somehow worked a miracle.

I hope to get more details about Ginger’s lucky adoption and new life.

Meanwhile, big kudos to Betsy and to Ginger’s new forever family.

Learning that Ginger had been sprung from the slammer was one of the best Valentine’s Day gifts I’ve ever received.

ALL PHOTOS AND TEXT BY KATERINA LORENZATOS MAKRIS (unless otherwise noted) 
COPYRIGHT 2012 -  Please feel free to spread the links to these articles, but reprint or re-post of anything more than a paragraph or two of text is allowable only by explicit permission from the author, who may be contacted at youradopteddog@yahoo.com. Thank you!

Ginger’s ‘dad’ went to jail - now she's on Death Row

Ginger, doing the time for someone else's crime.
(Photo: Henry County Animal Control Shelter)

Every time our father went to prison—four different stints over a couple of decades, or maybe more; I lost count—my siblings and I were lucky to have a loving mother and grandparents to care for us.

Ginger is not so lucky. When her owner got evicted from his home and then arrested, the easy-going Labrador retriever mix ended up at the local animal shelter.

Or, as it says on her Henry County Animal Control Shelter profile, “Her owner was evicted and then jailed, so Ginger is also a victim of his situation. They were put out and he was taken to jail, so she came to us, jailed as well.”

On Death Row

Ever since I saw her photo on Facebook earlier this week, I haven’t stopped thinking about Ginger. Maybe it’s because my own father was in prison for so much of my youth, and I remember too well the hardships it created. Or maybe it’s because of the look of bewilderment and sorrow on her face, expressing the same pain carried by many children whose parents are or have been incarcerated. We number more than 10 million in the U.S. alone, by many estimates.

Another reason I keep thinking about Ginger is that she reminds me a bit of Derby, an angelic brown beauty my husband and I adopted from a Chesapeake Bay retriever rescue group in Napa Valley years ago, after her former owner had gone to jail too.

“We held her as a special circumstance,” Ginger’s profile reads, “but a family member has let us know her owner is not getting out. So here she sits, possibly facing the end of her life [in a kill shelter], alone and confused.”

'Amazing' girl

“LOVE this girl,” her profile continues. “She is so amazing. Must come meet her! You will not leave without her!”

Via email I asked Becky at the Henry County shelter in McDonough, Georgia what makes Ginger so amazing.

“She is a VERY sweet girl,” Becky replied. “A big couch potato—a fat, spayed, middle-aged house dog. Needs someone to love her for the rest of her life.  It is very heartbreaking to watch her languish here. We’ve held Ginger for a few weeks hoping a family member would come but none have. So I listed her on the net for adoption.”

Ginger sounds like the kind of mellow, pleasant companion who could fit into just about any home with a minimum of fuss. It’s hard to go wrong adopting a middle-aged dog. They’re a ton less work than puppies or teenage pooches, who can easily drive you up the wall. Yet you still have a lot of great years ahead to enjoy with a middle-ager.

Regardless of what Ginger’s ‘dad’ might have done to end up in the slammer, sweet Ginger certainly doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned too.

Can you help spring this innocent jailbird?

Please consider adopting Ginger, and/or spread the link to this article.

To help sponsor Ginger with a donation, visit her ChipInpage.

For more info about her contact:

Henry County Animal ControlShelter

Tel. 770-288-PETS (7387)

Please use Ginger’s ID number when inquiring about her: ID# 1/9-4704

UPDATE:  GINGER WAS ADOPTED!  Read more.

ALL PHOTOS AND TEXT BY KATERINA LORENZATOS MAKRIS (unless otherwise noted) 
COPYRIGHT 2012 -  Please feel free to spread the links to these articles, but reprint or re-post of anything more than a paragraph or two of text is allowable only by explicit permission from the author, who may be contacted at youradopteddog@yahoo.com. Thank you!

Princess Kali Amanda joins a club

'Uncle' Keith giving Kali ear rubs

Murphy’s Law is often at work when you’re rescuing a dog. On the day I brought the yellow dog into my life—or better said, pulled her scrawny, limping self into my car here on the island of Kefalonia—naturally I only had four minutes left on my pay-as-you-go mobile phone, and not enough cash to buy a new phone card.

One minute of the four went for a call to my Christmas Day hostess, who had invited me back for a lunch of the leftovers. 

“Sorry I can’t make it,” I said, wondering how long it would be before the dog peed, pooped, threw up, or performed some combination thereof on the upholstery of my rented car. “I’ve got a dog.”

“A what?

“A dog.”

“A dog!”

“Yes. Off the street. I couldn’t help it,” I told her. “I know I shouldn’t have, but she was limping, and— “

“Oh, well done!” said my friend in her wonderful British way. The fact that she always chirps things like “well done!” at times like these, as opposed to the eye-rolls or and flat-out derision I get from way too many other people whenever I do a rescue, is one of the reasons I love her like a sister.

The second minute went to a call to another couple of British expatriates, Keith and Julia Preston, who, with Julia’s sister Pat Dolman and husband Dave run one of the island’s animal rescue organizations, Kefalonia Animal Trust (KATs).

“I can’t talk long because I’m almost out of minutes,” I said, “but I’ve… well, I’ve done it again… picked up another stray.”

“You’ve done what?” Julia asked.

“A stray… a street dog… I have her in my car here and— “

Keith, a former Yorkshire coal miner who can befriend the most feral of feral cats, is always pragmatic. “Now what are you going to do?” he wanted to know.

“Do you have a dog kennel I can borrow?”

In half an hour Keith met me at the crossroads up the hill from their home/animal refuge, bringing a metal crate on loan from Pat. And after another two minutes, the yellow dog was leaning against him for a hug.

“She’s not that bad off,” he said, assessing her starvation level.

I nodded. We’ve all seen a lot worse. “But she’s got the bum leg, and she was about to get hit by a car, and… “

He gave me one of his knowing chuckles. He’s heard lots of rescue stories from me over the years.

“Well, she’s a soft one. Nice dog, that’s for sure. Aren’t you, Spodger?”

Keith calls all animals he likes “Spodger,” and though he likes almost all of them, hearing it nevertheless made me happy. Kali had officially joined the Spodger Club.

“Now what are you going to do?” he asked again after we managed to finagle the huge, clunky, folding crate into my little Fiat.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you need food for her?”

I showed him the bag from which I’d been feeding the Museum Gang.

“What’s your husband going to say?”

“That, I do know—nothing good.”

He gave the yellow dog thorough rubs behind the ears. She scrunched her eyes shut in bliss.

“All right then, I’m off,” he said. “Have dogs to feed. Call us if you need anything.”

“Like CPR after the husband jumps through the phone line and throttles me?”

He chuckled again. “Yeah. We’ll be there.”

Watching Keith drive off in his old sputtering car—the car that’s lined in fur that is shed by the countless puppies, kittens, dogs, and cats transported for vet care and spay/neuter (and if lucky fostering and adoption), the car that’s full of bags and cans of food for the dozens of homeless animals KATs sustains at feeding stations, the car that leaks when it rains because the type of shoestring budget on which most rescuers struggle doesn’t allow for such niceties as new cars—it occurred to me, not for the first time, that we are all nuts. Keith, his wife and sister and brother-in-law, me, and the hundreds of thousands of other rescuers around the world who spend our time, energy, and money on the overwhelming tidal wave of neglected, abused, and/or abandoned animals.

We are reckless surfers on that tidal wave, risking everything including health, jobs, relationships, and sanity.

Glancing at Kali, who sat quietly in the front seat because the crate had crowded her out of the back, I got another rush of “Ye gads, what have I done?”

I wanted to call out after Keith, Please come back! Help! Yes, I do need something. Just take this dog, can’t you?  I don’t want to rescue another one right now. I don’t! I’ve got too much to do! And anyway I’m still exhausted from the ones before!

But there was no point. Keith and Julia’s house is more than full, as is their sister Pat’s house. Everyone else on this island who cares about animals has as many as they can possibly hold. It’s not uncommon for animal-lover households to have 6, 7, or more dogs.

I took a breath for strength and got in the car. Kali quietly watched.

Now what are you going to do? the question echoed. 

She looked at me as if wondering the same thing.

“Don’t worry, Spodger.” I gave her a rub in the behind-the-ear sweet spots Keith had found. “We’ll think of something.”

Please see previous posts about Kali... 

Princess Kali Amanda Gets Her Chance

Princess Kali Amanda Gets Her Second Chance

If you'd like to help a sweet, elderly, disabled street dog on the island of Paros, please see Old, Arthritic Gina, a Canine Work of Art, Endures a Hard Life on the Street

If you'd like to help unchain a dog who spends his whole life chained no matter the weather on the island of Kefalonia, please see Painful Talk with Friend Who Keeps Dog Chained.

ALL PHOTOS AND TEXT BY KATERINA LORENZATOS MAKRIS - COPYRIGHT 2012 -  Reprint or re-post allowable only by explicit permission from the author, who may be contacted at youradopteddog@yahoo.com. Thank you!

Painful talk with friend who keeps dog chained outside

Another dog (not Fido) who spends his life on a chain, howled when I stopped petting him and left

A golden retriever spends his life chained up—winter, summer, spring, and fall—in the parking lot of one of the island of Kefalonia’s biggest rental car companies, operated by the niece of one of my dearest friends.

Around one o’clock in the afternoon today I stopped by to see if the niece—we’ll call her “Maria”—was there so as to give her some grapefruit from our trees. Seeing the dog chained outside, I thought Maria must be in the office working. Maybe she had left the dog out there temporarily to catch some of the week’s rare sunshine.

But she wasn’t there, and neither was anyone else.

The dog—we’ll call him "Fido"—danced happily and showered me with grateful affection. When I left, he howled.

Two hours later, the dog was still there.

Five hours later, at about six-thirty, Fido had been moved to a different chain, with theoretical access to a small plastic dog kennel and a large pan of water.

But he had wrapped the chain so tightly around a nearby column that he couldn’t reach the kennel or the water. He lay shivering in a patch of weeds.

When I unwound the chain, he ran straight to the water and drank for a full minute.

At that hour, the temperature was already 8 degrees Celsius, or 46 Fahrenheit.  Forecasts say tonight’s low will be 5C, or 41F.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Fido. “I’m sorry.”

He may or may not have understood the words, but he definitely understood my touch. He craved it. When I let off petting him he’d duck his head under my palm and make it trail along his body. When I took a step away he’d glue himself to my leg.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I’m so sorry.”

His howl followed me as I drove away.

After getting home, I fed our foster dog Kali then immediately looked for Maria’s phone number.

CONVERSATION ABOUT THE CHAINED-UP DOG AT MARIA’S OFFICE (translated from Greek):

First some pleasantries, inquiries about family members, wishing each other a good new year, all with the sound of a small dog barking in the background.

KM: I stopped by the office today to give you some fruit.

MARIA: I’m not there in the winter. It’s mostly closed. There’s only someone there for maybe a couple of hours in the morning.

KM: I hear a little dog barking. Is that yours?

MARIA:  Yes, that’s my dog. When I get on the phone he barks because he wants my attention.

KM: (laughing) Yes, ours do the same. It’s amazing. He lives inside with you?

MARIA: Yes.

KM: Maria, I’m wondering if you know that there’s been a dog chained up all day outside your office?

MARIA:  Yes, I know. That’s our dog. Fido.

KM: Your dog?

MARIA: Yes. That’s where he lives. That’s where we keep him.

KM: Oh, gosh.

MARIA: That’s where he’s always been.

KM: I’m sad to hear that.

MARIA:  Why? He’s fine.

KM: He’s very cold.

MARIA: No. He’s fine. He’s used to it. He’s been there his whole life. Four years.

KM: That’s a hard life, Maria. Especially in this weather. It’s very cold tonight.

MARIA: I know. I know it’s cold.

KM: It’s hard for dogs to endure these extremes in weather.

MARIA:  He’s been there four years. He’s fine. He’s never caught a cold.

KM: I’m glad he’s been healthy. But he’s not comfortable. It’s hard for dogs to go through weather extremes, just as it is for us.

MARIA: Lots of people keep their dogs tied up outside. It's perfectly normal.

KM: I know a lot of people do it. I see it everywhere, not just here in the Greece, but in the U.S. and lots of other countries too. That doesn't make it right.

MARIA: He’s a dog. Wild dogs live outside. They’re made to live outside.

KM: I think wild dogs and wolves are different species from domesticated dogs, canis familiaris. And even if they can survive being in weather extremes, it doesn’t mean that they’re comfortable. It can’t be pleasant for Fido. In fact I think Fido is miserable.  This is torment. We wouldn’t be comfortable out there and I can’t imagine he can be either.

MARIA: He has never caught a cold. He’s not cold. He’s used to it. We asked the vet and the vet said he’s fine because he’s used to it.

KM: If you or I or the vet were to spend the night out there, even wearing heavy coats, I don’t think we’d feel fine.

MARIA: We’re not dogs.

KM: In the U.S., many scientists and companies perform experiments on dogs to test things like new drugs, new medical procedures, the effects of smoking tobacco, and so forth. One reason why they use dogs, as I understand it, is that their physiology is so similar to ours. They are really not that different from us in what they can feel. If something causes us discomfort and pain, it will probably cause that for them too.

MARIA:  Fido likes it out there. He likes being outside.  In the summer when we try to bring him into the office because it’s hot outside, he goes back outside.  My little dog that I have here doesn’t like to stay inside. She often prefers to sit out on the balcony.

KM: I think if Fido had a choice tonight he would want to be indoors where it’s warm, and with you—with his family.

MARIA: My little dog here likes to go outside, then she comes inside when she wants.

KM: I’m so glad you have that dog there inside with you. That’s a wonderful life for her. And it’s great that she has the choice to go outside or stay inside. I wish Fido could have that type of life.

MARIA: My husband goes and moves him from the chain by the office to the chain by the dog kennel. He can go into the kennel if he wants.

KM:  Maria, tonight I found Fido wrapped around a column. He couldn’t move more than five feet. He couldn’t reach the kennel, or the water. When I untangled him, he went to the water and drank for a whole minute. He must have been stuck there for a long time.

MARIA: Sometimes he gets stuck like that but then he figures out how to untangle himself.

KM: I’m hoping you can think about giving Fido the kind of comfortable life that your small dog has.

MARIA: He’s not mine. Fido belongs to someone who works for us.

KM: He’s not yours?

MARIA: The fellow keeps him there.

KM: On your property?

MARIA: He’s the office mascot. In the summer all the tourists stop and pet him.

KM:  But in the winter?  There are no tourists in the winter. And there’s only someone there in the office for a couple of hours in the morning, you said. Fido is alone day and night. And in all kinds of weather.

MARIA: His owner is there for several hours a day at the office.

KM: But you said…

MARIA: His owner loves him. He pets him all the time. He has a little kid, and he brings the kid to visit the dog. They love each other.

KM: Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the dog could be at home with his family, that family who loves him so much, and who he loves too with all his heart?

MARIA: He gets lots of love.

KM: Does he ever get off the chain?

MARIA: Oh yes, of course. The fellow lets him off and he goes running through the fields. Sometimes he goes down to the sea for a swim.

KM: He gets this exercise every day?

MARIA: The fellow takes really good care of him.

KM: I wish he could have Fido in his home with him, to spare him the misery of the cold, the rain, the wind…

MARIA: Instead of thinking about dogs outside, we should be thinking about all the homeless people who are out in the cold.

KM:  Yes and of course you’ve heard the whole saga of how back in California my husband and I are taking care of my distant relatives—the elderly aunt and uncle with severe memory impairment who used to live here in Kefalonia. You’ve heard the whole story. They were essentially abandoned. They had no electricity, heating, food. But it’s a flaw, isn’t it?  Caring?  And it just gets worse. If you open your heart to care about animals you care about people too, and vice versa. The same heart that cares about one will care about the other. It’s a pain in the neck, this caring thing.

MARIA: Fido likes the cold. You should see how he loves to get wet. Every morning he jumps into that large pan of water, to bathe himself, to keep himself clean.

KM: He’s missing some spots. After I pet him my hands were dark with dirt from his fur, just like street dogs who’ve never been bathed.

MARIA: That's because during the day he gets dirty again.

KM: I don’t think dogs do a very good job of bathing themselves.

MARIA: This is all your opinion.

KM: That’s true. Yes. My opinion. I thank you for letting me talk with you about it. It’s very kind of you to listen.  I’m hoping, really hoping, that you’ll speak with the fellow who owns Fido, and ask him to take his dog into his home.

MARIA: I’m not going to do that.

KM: It would be such a wonderful thing for Fido. And he’s a very sweet dog. So sweet. Really affectionate. He’d be so happy to live with his family, in their home.

MARIA: It’s none of my business.

KM: Fido lives chained up at your business, on your property.

MARIA: He’s not mine. He’s that fellow’s.

KM: Perhaps you could speak with him, and ask him—

MARIA: He loves the dog. He treats him fine.

KM:  Maybe you could ask him to expand his love for his dog, and improve his care of him, by taking him home where he can be part of his family?

MARIA: He is part of the family. They love him.

KM:  You said the man’s child loves the dog. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they could spend their lives side by side?  Dogs will give their lives for their families—especially children. But as it is now they don’t see him very often. He spends most of his life alone. In the cold, rain, wet, whatever the weather. Their love for him must be able to make a spot for him in their home, don’t you think? I’m hoping you’ll speak with him—

MARIA: I don’t get involved in other people’s affairs.

KM: The fellow has made it your affair by keeping his dog chained up outside your office.  A very sad thing. Painful to see.

MARIA: You can’t fix everything. You can’t save the world.

KM:  No. That’s right. We can’t. But there are some things we can change and we can fix. This dog…  you could really help him.

MARIA: I don’t go there in the winter. What goes on has nothing to do with me.

KM:  He’s such a sweet animal. Really loving. You could make his life so much better.

MARIA: Dogs live outside.

KM: Your little dog must be very happy to live with you inside. Fido could be happy too.

MARIA: He’s so big. I’m afraid of big dogs.

KM: I’ve never met a sweeter dog. Really nice animal.

MARIA:  Of course he is.  The fellow bought him, paid a lot of money for him.

KM:  It’s hard for me to understand why he went out of his way to get this dog, to buy him, then just leaves him abandoned out there.

MARIA: He’s not abandoned.

KM:  Are you hoping he’ll protect the property? Is he supposed to be guarding the office? Because he’s sure not doing that. He’s very friendly. He only barked when I left, because he wanted me to stay so he wouldn’t be alone. Being alone is very hard for a dog.

MARIA: No. He’s not a guard dog. That’s just where the fellow wants to keep him.

KM:  It’s really hard for a dog to spend his life alone. They aren’t made for that. They are bred to love us. They want to be with us. They want to belong. They love being part of a family. This is torment for him. It’s like punishing him. What did he do to deserve this?

MARIA: [Silence]

KM:  Maybe the fellow doesn’t want Fido anymore? Maybe he was too much trouble to have at home, and it’s easier just to chain him up out there?  Would he like a new home for the dog?

MARIA:  No. He wants him.

KM:  I wish I could understand why he wants to have an animal chained up outside in all kinds of weather, day and night, not even on his own property, but at his employer’s office. What good is that? Why does he want the dog at all?

MARIA: It’s none of my business.

KM: Sadly, it makes your business—your beautiful car rental company—look like it’s run by hicks. That type of thinking—that it’s OK to leave dogs chained up like that, in freezing cold, and in blistering heat, and in rain, and in wind—that type of thinking is for hicks, Maria.

MARIA: [Silence]

KM: I’m sad to see this situation making your company look like it’s run by backwoods, unsophisticated folks who don’t know any better.

MARIA: [Silence]

KM: This custom of leaving dogs chained up outside belongs to the old days—to our grandparents’ generation. It’s not for us. We’ve come beyond that. This situation is making your business look terrible.

MARIA: [Silence]

KM: I’m hoping you’ll think about this? I’d be so grateful, and I know Fido would, too.

MARIA: [Silence]

KM: Thank you for listening. You’ve been very kind to let me take your time, and let me express my feelings.  My heart breaks to see that dog in such misery in front of a lovely business owned by wonderful people like your family. I very much appreciate you letting me talk with you about it.

MARIA: You’re welcome.

A few more pleasantries, and the conversation ends.

Echoing howl

It’s six hours later now, six hours deeper into this cold night. Tonight will be followed by another frigid night just like it, and then night after night for months throughout this island’s harsh winter.

I take Kali into the yard so she can relieve herself. The stars overhead seem to have sharp edges, like bits of broken ice. My teeth chatter in spite of five layers of shirts and sweaters, the jacket over it all, and the cap.  Kali foregoes her usual nighttime rat-flushing exploits and waits for me at the door, eager to get back inside to some warmth.

When I go back to typing, she hops up onto the sofa a few feet away from me and settles in for another snooze. I’m grateful—deeply grateful—that I was able to pluck her off the streets and out of the jaws of winter. But there are so many more—countless more Kalis—still out there.

Fido’s howl echoes in my head.