The Canine Contribution

In grammar school, I convinced my mom to let me take in a dirty, hungry, very tired stray dog. In 1988, at the age of 45, I was taking care of a neglected stray in an Israeli-Arab village. In between, there had been other canine companions in my life. Although they were quite different in looks, temperament, and personality, they were invaluable life teachers. From them, I learned the true depth of a best friend, loyalty, responsibility, loving and taking care of an "other" in the world. They were my first encounters in life with death and loss and grieving.

In 1999, when my father and I moved together into a retirement community after my mother's death, the first home I instantly loved and wanted was one that had a large patio that I thought would be perfect for a dog. My dad had lived in apartments for many years that didn't allow dogs, and he always missed having one. Finally!

However, my dad died only four months after we moved in. I thought about getting a dog, but several aspects of being a dog owner stopped me. First, it means being more tied down and complicates traveling jaunts. Then, there's the potential danger factor. My dad had suffered a broken pelvis by a too-playful big dog that jumped on him. I saw a lady who was badly bruised because her dog took off after something and dragged her behind on his leash. I've met elderly people who were badly injured by falling over their dogs who were underfoot. Since I've fallen twice in the last two years (not because of dogs) and broke a knee each time, I know falling isn't a simple matter as a senior.

Then, there is the high expense of veterinary care to consider. Keeping myself healthy is challenging enough without having to think of what it takes to keep a dog healthy in terms of proper exercise, diet, and care. There are programs for being a foster caretaker to a dog, which means I wouldn't have to pay vet expenses, but that also means having to say goodbye after a brief acquaintance. Of course, there's the nuisance problem for my neighbors if I end up with a barking dog.

But the biggest problem I can't figure out how to deal with is the coyote factor. I live in an area where coyotes live because development has given them no choice. I live on the ground floor, with a patio that has a wall, but is not enclosed. One of my friends had the terrible experience of coming home one day to find her chewed up dog on the bloody patio. I don't have the money or the interest in enclosing my favorite indoor-outdoor patio with an overhang and just enough wall for privacy, but not protection from hungry coyotes smelling dinner.

Still, I think of my adventures with Whitey, Ski, Taffy, Woosha, and Pancho at different stages of my life. Whitey was the beautiful dog I saved. Ski was the golden dog who loved to run free. Taffy was very neurotic and very lovable. Woosha gave me warmth and comfort in a cold trailer on the grounds of an Israeli boarding school. Pancho wanted to be by my side at all times even though such a friendship was not acceptable in the Israeli-Arab village where we lived. They were all strays. They were all mutts. Somehow we found each other. And connected.

Maybe, some day ......