Saturday, July 23, 2011

Neighborhood sketchiness

I hope I don't meet this guy in my neighborhood.
A while back, after a woman was raped on a part of the trail that we frequent, I wrote about my anger over the insidious fear that can stem from such an incident. Suddenly, I felt a little less safe in my neighborhood, especially when Zach wasn't around, and in spite of having two sizable dogs with me at virtually all times.

When I heard that someone of a similar description had struck again in this area (thankfully it wasn't quite a rape this time), my first thought was, "Whew. I'm glad that we have Machete right now."
Now, isn't that the face of a living, breathing crime deterrent?
Sweet though he may be, our shovel-headed black foster dog looks like a roughneck. It's an attribute that I found appealing right away. But as it turns out, even armed with the bully-faced Machete, as well as the big-but-not-at-all-scary-looking Minnie and Luke, I remain hesitant to go into my front yard, much less venture onto the trail, after dark. (You can be damn sure that if I did, Machete would be sans his conversation-starting, dayglow "Adopt Me" vest.)

I hate feeling influenced in this way by a jackass who doesn't even strike at night (both attacks occured very early in the morning). I don't know if my reaction is rational, paranoid, culturally-induced or some combination thereof. It's frustrating that the dogs don't add much to my sense of security, but I guess that's an issue I have to work out with myself. Because there will always be bad guys.

Women reading this blog: Do your dogs make you feel safe? What else helps?

Friday, July 22, 2011

Heartworm Status Update: Negative!

Following my last post about Machete, the dog was tested again to be sure of his heartworm status before beginning the stressful treatment of the parasites. To everyone's surprise, the secondary testing came back negative. It took a little while, but all involved veterinarians were able to get their documents together, and as of today, we have official instructions to assume that Machete is heartworm negative. He must be re-tested again in six months, but for now, we are elated that we don't have to put him through the process that our dog Luke underwent when he had heartworms.

I am also hoping that this news will increase Machete's adoptability. Zach and I are both rather smitten with the handsome fellow. He is, hands down, the best snuggler under our roof, but four dogs are simply too many for our small house and budget. (Not to mention that Luke is still not Machete's biggest fan.)

If you have not already done so, please visit the Facebook event page that we created for Machete's adoption process. So far, it has generated some excitement about him from friends and friends of friends. We are beginning to interview potential adopters and with support from Friends of Halfway Home (who will receive his adoption fee), we hope to have him placed with a forever family within 30 days.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Wayward dog Chale Machete seeks a forever home


A little over  a week ago, I posted a photo of a coal black pit/lab mix that we found across the street from our house. Chale Machete, as we've taken to calling him, is still with us.

In spite of his menacing (to some) appearance, he's a great dog. From the first night, as soon as he realized we wouldn't hurt him, he showed an affectionate spirit. Sixty-pound Machete lives to snuggle -- nearly as much as my miniature pinscher does. He likes to lay at your feet in the kitchen and sprawl across you on the couch, bed or in the car. Having vehemently resisted a leash initially, he's now come to realize it means an exciting chance to go outside.

Of course, life with Machete isn't all puppy licks and cuddling. His incessant curiosity and eagerness to play inspires growls from the cat and our dogs, none of whom seem all that stoked about adding to the pack. Adjusting to his presence means changing the routines of feeding time, walks and guarding any open door because he's always ready to run out and explore.

Having found no trace of anyone searching for him, we are now faced with fostering Machete until someone will take him off of our hands.

I'd be lying if I said this whole experience hasn't caused me to question my desire to keep chasing after stray dogs. From having taken in Minnie and ultimately deciding to keep her last year, I have always understood that in catching loose canines, you run the risk of getting stuck with them.

And that can be expensive, inconvenient, even -- depending on the animal -- dangerous to you or your pets.

As I write this, I can see one of our neighbors walking past. A day or so before we caught Machete, he also attempted to capture the dog and failed. A few days later, his family ended up with a big, fluffy black and white dog that was running around, barely able to breathe due to a tether knotted tightly around its neck. I know my neighbor, who has the strange dog and not his own with him now, is experiencing a similar sense of "What have I gotten myself into?"

But what's the alternative? Letting people-dependent animals roam freely until they die or, even worse, attack a runner, pedestrian or child out of illness, fear and general confusion?

I completely understand that everyone isn't up to the task of taking in -- temporarily or permanently -- lost dogs that may or may not rightfully belong to someone else. But getting them off the streets is important, even if you aren't in the position to care for the animal yourself.

Animal shelters are depressing places, and I hope that we never have to surrender a creature to one and the high probability of death that comes along with that fate (especially for black dogs and cats). But the fact of the matter is that no one wants a neighborhood overrun with half-feral dogs. I have been to cities in Latin America with that problem. It's scary.

Shelters exist for a reason, and so does the huge network of animal rescue organizations and resources available to people who have lost or found pets.

We are extremely grateful to one local organization, Friends of Halfway Home, which has helped us to help Machete. (Please consider making a donation to Friends if you can.)

Thanks to this group's amazing support, he's now neutered (in accordance with Kansas City, Missouri, law for pit bulls), microchipped and up to date on shots.

Unfortunately, Machete happens to be heartworm positive, but he will begin treatment for that next week. We are optimistic that Machete, who is otherwise vigorous and younger than our dog Luke was when he recovered from heartworms, will be just fine.

We are also optimistic that someone will come forward to give this dog a new life in a less crowded home with snuggles to spare. Please contact me if you or anyone you know is interested in adopting Machete. He deserves love.

Neighbor love




I think I have indicated before that the reaction of the neighborhood to our decision to transform a large portion of our lot into growing space for vegetables and fruit trees has elicited some awesome interactions with our neighbors and passersby.

The project is still in its early stages, which means twiggy baby trees and empty-looking patches where things are beginning to sprout. The stuff that is growing isn't exactly what's typically considered attractive frontyard landscaping -- tomatoes, onions, melons. And then there are those bigass rain barrels...

Nevertheless, several times a week, when we're out working in the garden, drivers will pull over to ask about what we've planted or walkers pause to comment that they've been watching our progress. One woman even set to weeding with us while she chatted.

We were particularly touched by the thank-you card that showed up in our mailbox recently. Such a gesture seems uncommon in this day and age and makes me want to give these nice people a big hug (and a basket of tomatoes if I can keep the squirrels from stealing them). 

Our neighbors' excitement makes Zach and me feel like our growing experiment matters to more than just us. The totally unexpected attention is flattering, as well as intimidating. What if we fail, and everything that we've planted just croaks off? It's not like either of us really know anything about gardening yet. We just know what we want this land to give us: sustenance, beauty and respite.

I am so glad that the people around us can see that. And I hope that we succeed and can share our bounty with them.