Coming into work Tuesday (correct me if I am wrong, Tuesday, right?) – I spied a note on my desk, lying discreetly in the middle of my desk “Call Gabriella at extension xxxx). Hmmm, Okay, Gabriella, which one? (I thought). I called and before I could place I name I heard, “Harry! You have to try and do something. There was a dog on campus and the police kicked her out of the campus to die. Please try to do something!” Having just arrived in the AM, my brain was trying to process the words past “Harry” and then it began to process….I thought – what could I possibly do?
I replied (wondering how I had become so popular?!) – how would I find the dog without knowing WHERE in Observatorio or the direction she had been released? We had little to no information about that and as I hung up with a tearful Gabriella wanting to do something, I thought, “Okay, what the heck, WHAT is it going to do to look? Right?” I grabbed Moctezuma, my awesome library partner in crime, and we took a walk around the seeedy, and mysterious alleys of Observatorio, on the alert for an Afghan-looking dog. (This truly could not be difficult to miss if we spotted it, right?)
I mentioned as we walked the “Needle in a haystack” chance of finding this dog, stopping even at a butcher to inquire of a dog had been seen (throwing all old stereotypes out the window – Butcher, there will be a dog nearby).
We made our way down Observatorio, hoping NOT to see the dog near the highway , turned right in front of the Hospital ABC, and a blur caught my eyes to the left…and BAM! NO freaking waaaaaay! A very dirty, harried (love THAT word) and undirectional Afghan dog! Running through the parking lot of ABC!! What were the chances? We ran into action, Moct on one end of the lot, me on the other, trapped it, and boom! ut the side, through the bushes, back to Observatorio! We trailed here as he instantly made a beeline for the ASF School and true enough, right to the main entrance of ASF – where the security grabbed her and sat her down. Moct played babysitter to the newly found pup (large one though) as I ran inside to make a plan.
What kind of plan do you make when you find a stray Afghan dog in the streets of Observatorio? Well, you make the plans that I did, last minute and sudden ones. They will either pay off or bankrupt. I’ll let you decide which occurred here.
I called Jessica from the Middle School, arranged for Lilia to hold my library meeting, talked to Gabriela, who was inquiring with Mr Williams on the best course of action, and finally, through Jessica’s keys, and Carlos’ directional know how, Carlos drove me back to my apartment, in Jessica’s car, with a newly found, but quite dirty, Afghan in tow. She patiently and quietly waited in front of my apartment door, as if asking, What next?!
I arrived at my apartment, took the amazingly well-behaved dog ) who was sitting in the backseat taking it all in quietly) promptly into the shower, and watched the grease, grime, and dirt flow down the drain, as she (I found out later, SHE) patiently stood there letting me purify her from the streets from whence she just came!
Next step – water, food. Water, she gulped down. Food, two hamburgers and 7 hot dogs later ( I know, I know, I should have stopped at like 2 food items) – I realized her stomach was reacting to food in who knows how long. Soaking wet, but a little whiter, I left her on the bed, as she began to take in the idea no dodging of cars would have to occur.
Days go by, and my week is now designed for late, early and midday walks, almost a blessing in disguise as amid the rush detail, I have an excuse for some air, solitude, and time to let my mind wander and wind down. I always saw others with dog, and never imagined it would be me, but then again, it is kind of difficult to imagine things when they just occur for a reason or for no reason at all, right?
Thursday becomes DDay for the dog, and we make a reservation on the recommendation of Naomi Pawlik, to the Condesa Pet Center
, and sure enough, we have a 6:30 appointment. I am in the middle of transition a friend into his new apartment, and I am able to drop the dog off at the vet, where they immediately take her in for a major scrubdown and groom. Needless to say, with the kerchief, when I came back, I had no idea whose dog this was. This was not the same dog? With some prescription and good dog food, we left and I thought I had hit the jackpot, not only was she well-behaved, and now looking like a hundred dollars, she appreciate these little tasks much more than most humans appreciate acts of kindness, and that is worth money in the bank, no matter the amount. So here we are, a dog in Mexico without a name. Let the games begin, names names, we need a name, please suggest! (And yes, this story still boggles me mind how fast and how easily this all happened, but at this point in the blog, is it best to question fate or just record it? I vote the second one) 🙂 Newest picture of her: