Sunday, April 21, 2013

Along the River


Another wasted weekend. I had planned on taking Sadie and Minnie along the five-mile loop in Brown Canyon this afternoon, but Zeke insisted on going and pushed his way to the van. Fine, I thought, but now I must change my plans. Since he lacks trail etiquette I knew the Brown Canyon trail was a no-go and opted instead for the shorter but safer trail along the San Pedro River near the Hereford bridge. I hadn't been here in a while and the dogs would enjoy the water.

It was still rather hot when we got out of the van at 5:20pm. We had at least two hours before we'd lose sunlight, but I hadn't planned on being out that long. I had a flashlight packed in my bag just in case.

The dogs were happy to get out and run. Sadie and Minnie are getting their neighborhood walks but Zeke gets left behind. So tonight was his fun night. Sadie stayed by my side.

We weren't on the trail for long when I spotted a coyote run across the field. Then I saw a second one. The dogs took off running in the general area of the coyotes, and when they did, a herd of javalina came sprinting out of the weeds. Were the coyotes stalking the javalina? All three dogs took off running, and all the animals disappeared behind a knoll to the west: coyotes, javalinas and dogs. My yells proved fruitless. At least the dogs were in a pack and the coyotes wouldn't take them and neither would the javalina. Barks and snorts came from behind dark shrubs; I couldn't see any action. Were any of my dogs going to get injured? Crap.

The javalina fled and didn't come back. Neither did the coyotes. But my dogs were also silent. A few more screams and eventually all three came prancing back to me. There were no injuries on any of them, although Minnie had a frothy mouth and was panting. They were lucky this time.

The river was a mile away across an open field. Tall dry weeds were on either side of me, which the dogs avoided. The sun's light was casting a golden hue on the dead flora, making this area look like the typical Southwestern ranch land it really is.

I stopped at the river for them to drink, watching the waning sun slowly reach the crest of the mountain range. They let me know when they had had enough. For Zeke that meant diving into the water several times and getting completely wet. We walked another mile south before turning around and going the same way we came, stopping one more time for water.

Unlike other early springs of past years, I didn't notice a gypsy moth infestation on the ash and cottonwoods along the river. Had the late freezes killed off the larvae? Usually by now the catepillars are falling off the trees. I am not complaining, though.

Our little hike in solitude lasted just 90 minutes. This was a good choice for me today although I didn't get much of a work-out. I walked a trail popular with equestrians but today no horses gave me company. Their hoofmarks and scat littered the trail.

Two deer scammered across the path on our return walk, but luckily the dogs didn't notice.

Thus ended a rather peaceful weekend doing nothing much.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Dogs, shelter work and more

I continue to walk our select dogs in the neighborhood. The three miles stretches Sammy's endurance now, so sometimes it's just Sadie and Minnie. Minnie continues to bark the first mile before she calms down. I take Sara and Sammy on shorter mile-loops on dirt roads south of us. Both dogs tire out from that jaunt alone. I don't walk Zeke because being on a leash spazzes him out and he always lunges at neighborhood dogs he sees. Sweetie (Dahlia) still is very nervous about leashes in general and doesn't get walked, either.

I haven't yet ventured into the peaks since my failed attempt up Lutz Canyon a few weeks ago.

My passions about the animals and the shelter are changing. I am fighting my waning passion for the animal shelter. I haven't pinpointed the root of the cause. While there is great talent among the volunteer crew, it's obvious some do not like one another and let their anger out in our private online group. I also get conflicting information from the "dog advocates" as I do from the chief ACO. Polarity has increased between "cat advocates" and "dog advocates" and I feel close to both groups.

My work doesn't get complimented by the staff, and, in fact, I go there now with nervous anticipation that the staff has more complaints about something, whether it's the wrong photo, the wrong comment to that photo, or something someone else said or did that I must convey on. The photos and commentary are what drew the membership from an anemic 102 to the current 317 members in less than two months. Now the staff wants me to stop the commentary (but not the photos?). That won't happen in today's social media-frenzied young world.

The worst accusations are the false ones, of blaming me for things others have done, such as posting derogatory comments about the shelter or staff. That comes with being co-administrator of the Facebook page. I should have known. My biggest mistake is also fearing that every animal is at risk of being killed. Alas I can say there is no extant urge to kill off every pit bull or dog that's been there for over ten days. Those, I can honestly say, are vicious rumors.

Does anyone who's still volunteering there actually enjoy going to the shelter? It's the welfare of the animals that drives us to that place. We do things the paid staff should be doing but doesn't. And even though we are all volunteers, we are somehow made to feel imperfect, a nuisance and a liability. It is the volunteers who pay for the basic medications, the volunteers who take sick pups to local vets, volunteers who pay out of pocket for any needed items.

We have about twelve volunteers, all with select preferred days to go there. Most seem to go in teams there, as a sort of protective cover. I've always enjoyed Wednesdays. Usually I am there by myself and don't get sidetracked by idle chat once I'm there, unless someone is there to adopt an animal, or spend time with one. Weekends are out for me, but that is also when the general public likes going there; we get plenty of dog walkers on Saturday from Fort Huachuca, which alone is great PR as I admire soldiers who volunteer their time without being asked. These soldiers are expected to give enough from their free time, so working with the animals is a nice gesture.

The nice thing about volunteering at the shelter is being able to say with confidence that the shelter is ~NOT~ a "high kill" shelter as some still call it. Yes, it euthanizes sick dogs, unsocialized dogs, aggressive dogs, dogs with court-ordered euthanizations or those brought in by their owners for euthanization. None of the dogs has been destroyed this year simply because of over-crowding. The staff does try to work with volunteers and rescues to prevent that.

I had enjoyed my time with each animal, letting them run around the yard and photographing them. Yet even among the group I'm scolded for still posting on the shelter's Facebook page. We are to form our own entity, I'm told, and let the staff take their own photos. The staff makes me feel as if taking the animals' photos is a privilege (that I can lose at any moment.) Never have I felt so underappreciated. It's like being back at my old unit at Fort Hood.

My time away this summer will clear up my mind about why I'm still volunteering at the shelter. Others are in the same predicament about leaving the group. Brittany, the "dog whisperer," left today. Others are also contemplating leaving or stepping back. Will I resume my time there this fall when I'm back for the fall semester?

I know I feel blue about all this, but I also know that I will get over the blues. I always do. Anyone who has worked in animal welfare understands that this is never easy, and it can get downright depressing tending to the homeless animals. Volunteers are often the only voice these animals have, and they need us.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Walking the dogs in the neighborhood

This afternoon I did something I used to do much more often: I walked with three of the dogs on the three-mile course around the neighborhood. Sammy, Sadie and Minnie were the dogs I took today, if only to give Sadie some exercise to burn off her restlessness. She didn't pull or bark at any of the other dogs, in fact, she was at her best ever on-leash. Sammy followed along, but it was Minnie that barked at all the other dogs.

I can't remember the last time I walked the dogs on the course. Nothing has changed since I last walked it. We have new neighbors across the street moving in, and there are always a few other homes up for sale. Some of the dogs that used to go ballistic at my dogs are no longer around, but nothing major has changed at all. The corner house across from us, that was once home to a Mexican family, remains vacant and has been vacant for six months.

Weather is starting to warm up again. The trees have grown their leaves and the air is drying up. There's a lot of dust in the air again; even our air filters can't keep up.