The downhill slide started when we adopted our little Chiquita and seems to have hit bottom with, not one, but two strays who found their way to our doorstep. Wiser folks would have scurried them on their way, but (sigh) not us. Nooooo. But then, it only one stray… at first.
Yoda started hanging around a few weeks ago. At first we thought he belonged to one of the workers that starting showing up at six o’clock every morning – with a medium-sized brown terrier mix following in his footsteps. But then we found the dog sleeping his nights away curled up in an inside corner of a little inset on the north side of the house – in the one square foot space that stays dry even when the rain pours down in buckets. Smart dog.
After a few days we determined that he did not belong to said worker and that he apparently had no home. The only humane thing to do, we reasoned, was to put out a little food for him. It took a good 7 to 10 days, but eventually he decided we were not going to hurt him and he started sleeping on the front porch.
One day, I sat down on a chair on the front porch and called him over. He approached slowly, but let me pet him. Still, mostly, he kept his distance, waiting in the driveway at dinner time, ate his food, then curled up in his little, dry corner.
Even before we and he decided he was here for keeps, we felt he needed a name. One look at his big, funky ears and we knew it had to be Yoda, the elfish guru from Star Wars.
Then about a week ago, we awoke to find a scared little puppy huddling on our patio – an interesting fete, given that this little eight-pound creature would have had to hurdle a three-foot high Plexiglas barrier to get there. In other words, someone decided he would find a home with the nice gringos.
And, it appears he has.
Ozzie seemed a fitting name, given that he is likely an Australian Shepherd/Terrier mix. (We’ve concluded that most mixed-breed dogs in Costa Rica have some Terrier in them.) Unlike Yoda, Ozzie arrived with a serious flea and tic infestation and looked as if he had been on the street – or terribly neglected – for a long time. We can only imagine how hard that must have been for this little guy, given that he appears to also be deaf.
(If you’re looking for an investment, I strongly suggest buying stock in the company that makes our flea shampoo. And maybe Frontline, too. Due to the climate and the vegetation, I’m certain we will be purchasing them regularly! But I digress… )
As it turns out, while we were fussing over the new “baby,” Yoda was watching the activity from a safe distance on the driveway. That is, until he decided he was ready to be part of the action! So, the very day that Ozzie made his debut on our patio, Yoda climbed the steps to the patio and officially joined the family, too.
Our family of three dogs is still jostling about, trying to figure out who is top dog, but they get along amazingly well. Fortunately, Chiquita does not have a jealous or confrontational bone in her body. She’s just happy to have someone to play with.
Yoda looks to be about three or four years old, very intelligent, and has had some training – or perhaps bad experiences that make him eager to obey. He watches us for clues to identify good and bad behavior, responding instantly accordingly. He’s loving – even a bit needy – and wants to win our approval every step of the way. He’s our Velcro dog and he and Vic bonded instantly.
In the beginning, he wasn’t quite sure that the pack had a place for more than one male dog, but he has since decided that if we like Ozzie so much he must be okay. Besides, the little guy, while not the sharpest knife in the drawer, is smart enough to surrender dominance to the big boy.
Yep, Ozzie is a strange little creature. He’s a bit funny looking in that his some of his body parts don’t seem to match, but then looks aren’t everything. He’s quiet, well behaved, loving, and believes he was born to be a lap dog – and he’s decided that Chiquita is his best friend and wrestling companion.
Any other time, this would be a perfect scenario. But our two found puppies have only furthered our conviction that Costa Rica does not need more dogs, no matter how cute, cuddly or smart they might be. The plain truth is that for every loved and doted upon dog in Costa Rica there are countless others who live unhappy lives, unwanted, abused, or neglected. We cannot, in any good conscience, add to the problem.
So this week, Chiquita spent a morning with the vet. She came home about an hour after her surgery, slept off the anesthetic and ran a fever through the night, before getting the upper hand on the situation. Today she’s prancing around, chomping at the bit to start rough housing with her new friends. Trouble is, those stitches just are not ready for that yet.
Between a spray bottle of water to break up the periodic wrestling matches and a homemade e-collar to keep her from licking her stitches, we just might make it. Then, of course, we’ll need to think about doing something about the mating instincts of our two little boy dogs.
Like I said, our lives have gone to the dogs!
Pura Vida
