Country not a pet dump (12/30/05)

To the editor:

It was unusually warm for Sunday, Nov. 27. A little windy, but nice. I decided to work off some of those Thanksgiving calories by cutting wood. When the saw was quiet, I could hear an animal howl. It sounded more like a dog than a wild animal.

I was standing on the front porch listening when my daughter and grandchildren arrived. I told them tomorrow I would walk the creek bed and along the road, as I thought a dog was caught in a trap or hit by a car and was lying hurt in a ditch.

The howling was coming from the same general direction, although with the wind blowing I could not tell exactly where. I could not get the thought of some beloved pet suffering out of my mind. As the day was coming to a close, with field glasses in hand, out I went.

The howling stopped as soon as I left the driveway. I walked south to the intersection of 600 East and 600 South and went west to the creek, then south along the creek. I saw nothing. However, as I was walking towards home, almost to the road crossing, I heard howling from behind me. I turned, walked back in the direction I had just came, and saw what appeared to be a puppy in what I knew two years ago to be a groundhog den.

I approached the burrow with some caution, as I was not sure of the whereabouts of the mother. I bent down on hands and knees and talked reassuringly to the pup. The only response I got was growling.

I went home to tell my family what had happened.

I got some food and water, returned to the den and tried to coax out the animal(s) to no avail. I dropped the food in the tunnel, left the water at the mouth of the den and went home thinking there was nothing more I could do.

After years of being an animal lover and studying, animals wild and domestic, I had learned to mimic many of their sounds. So again I returned to my front porch and howled as best as I could remember the howl. To my relief, the howl was answered. Hope returned to my heart. I ran to the intersection as best as I could. I am, after all, an old granny lady. At the intersection, to the west, I could see, to my relief, what looked to be one puppy sitting by the side of the road.

Then, to my horror, past the hill behind the pup, I saw headlights. A car was coming from the west and I could hear one coming from the east. Now I ran towards the pup, this time hoping he would run from me to the safety of his den so as not to get hit by a car.

When I got to the den he was there, but he had not crawled into the tunnel made by the groundhog as he had done before. He was lying at the mouth of the den his mother had dug out. Again I talked to the pup and mimicked the sounds his mom would have made. I got no response and also no growling.

So gingerly, I put my hand in and petted him on the head. He accepted this hand of friendship but would not come out. I backed away from his sight and mimicked his mother’s sounds, to no avail. I crawled to the den again and, to my amazement, found his tail wagging. Unable to bring myself to leave him, I reached in and petted him. His tail wagged again. I reached for the scruff of his neck and pulled him out.

I returned home with him as fast as I could. In the light of the front room we examined him. Covered in mud and burrs, he appeared to be in amazingly good health. He more than likely was born in the wild.

For the past few weeks we had seen a stray dog. For the past three days we hadn’t seen her. She most likely was his mother. We have returned to the den many times, but have found no sign of the mother.

To see a stray is not unusual. Over the years we have seen many abandoned dogs and cats. We have six cats now that were abandoned and over a half dozen this year alone that had to be turned in to animal control because we didn’t have the money to have them spayed.

Three days after this happened another dog showed up, this one a male hound dog. Abused and starved, you can’t get near him to help him.

People see a bucolic country setting and think we would take care of what you don’t want to be responsible for.

You are wrong. What you dump out will starve, get shot or hit by a car. When you dump them out you are torturing them. They are better off at a pound or turned into animal control.

Please be responsible.

As for the pup, I have no money for a vet so we don’t have a clue to his age. He looks like a golden retriever-type. My granddaughter Kay’tee calls him Sunday Miracle.

It never ends. If we are a country of animal lovers, why are so many put down or abandoned?

Mary Harrison Bates

Portland[[In-content Ad]]