Out of The Blue

I had been at my third host family´s house for over a week when I finally realized that they had two, not one, dogs. I saw something staring at me from afar, a black and white head peeking over the trash heap, as I was washing my clothing in the sink. The frozen form was so immobile that closer inspection was required to confirm it was indeed alive. Among the garbage and pools of stagnant water sat an emaciated but very much alive adult dog. And so, in the midst of my washing routine, Blue entered my life.

The owner said she was a ¨bad dog¨ because she bites (there isn´t a dog here that doesn´t supposedly bite), and because she steals eggs from neighboring chickens. Based on her amiable temperament and emaciated state I deduced that she bit because they hit her (others confirmed this abuse), and stole eggs because she was starving. When I came to Panama I NEVER thought I would adopt a dog because it would be too difficult to leave behind. The last thing I wanted was the responsibility for another life- be it dog, cat, or even chicken. Nearly every woman here has inquired as to why I don´t already have or desire children. I would tell them I couldn´t commit to caring for a dog, let alone a child. I´ve seen many a mangy, abused, and severely underfed dog here, and have often told myself that there is no point in helping them as there are far too many. But I suppose this apathy can become dangerous if the whole world was viewed in this manner- nothing would ever change for the better. This is particularly important for me, as I am supposed to have a tiny impact here that although seemingly insignificant, will serve a greater good in the the distant future.

At the very least I can give this mutt a decent two years and try my best to find a home for her. Our doxie, Sophie, died unexpectedly and at a rather young age. I like to think that I´m giving this dog two years that Sophie should have had.

On a lighter note, my new friend is happier and slowly gaining weight. I don´t have to do much to please her at all because she is used to so little in the first place. When I told my dad that she looked like a Dalmation, he dismissed the idea with a laugh and a ¨I highly doubt that, Lizzie¨ (you don´t exactly find purebreds in rural, slightly impoverished towns like this). Now I can laugh at him, because she is indeed a dalmatian, an unwanted gift from a relative in Boquete. Her best feature is her eyes- one is chocolate brown and the other is ice blue. Hence the name, Blue. I, however, want to change her name to something a little more creative, considering I am a native English speaker. People find her eyes quite comical and joke that she has one eye like me. For lack of better choice in the pet store she is sporting a hot pink collar (which I justify as a forthright celebration of her femininity....). She is one of the three female dogs I have seen out of perhaps hundreds of males in this community. Females here are considered a burden as they will always produce puppies, and the female puppies are usually abandoned and left to die (my friend just rescued two that were left to die). But, to be fair, these practices are quite common in rural areas of the US too. Within the span of one week, three of us volunteers in the province of Chiriqui rescued dogs- and all of us were against having dogs in the first place. Even if we leave our communities in the same state as when we arrived (heaven forbid!), at the very least there will be three happier mutts in Panama.