Stray Dog Saga

The story of the abandonned dog has reached one level of denouement.
She’d been “around” a long time…
As long ago as the 25th of November I first saw her in a field apparently limping. That isn’t too strange – a couple of weeks ago big, friendly Capone developed a limp, but it worked itself out in a couple of days – after an examination showed no obvious problem – there are some sharp little caltrop-y thorns around here – his family surmised he’d twisted his ankle, as anyone might.
But closer observation of the stray dog showed that she never put the injured paw to earth (Capone when running, would run on his sore foot.)
She was tangled in some sort of wire that she couldn’t chew off, nor stretch.
Loose animals don’t necessarily adhere to any fixed schedule. And we spent the better part of two weeks watching her, watching for her, and trying to find out ways of catching her without harming her.
This dog is very timid. Everyone is convinced she has been mistreated.
When we first adopted Ruskin, then an abandonned dog in the village, our vet surmised that he’d been brought here by caçadors (“hunters” has different connotations in different languages – caçadors here are people hoping to shoot specially-released partridges or naturally occurring wild boar) and had run off as soon as the first shot was fired. Ruskin is terrified of fireworks and, of course, shooting season. We imagine a similar story for the stray dog.
She had survived pacifically here in the rough scrub and forest between the cultivated fields for over a year. We had observed her to have (at least one) puppy – one villager says he saw it. And many of us left food out for her. Also she accompanied us and our dogs on walks, though always out-of-reach of the dogwalker. We watched for her to make sure she was okay. Suddenly she wasn’t okay.
After trying many different techniques to lure her or catch her, finally the local Protectora d’Animals brought round an humane trap, and within 24 hours we got her!
On my sunset walk last night with Ruskin and Sandy, the trap was unsprung, but on the after-dark walk I wasn’t sure…and as soon as K got home from Barcelona he went straight to the trap and came back reporting she was there.
So we went out in the dark with flashlight, leads, pinch-collar and muzzle, and additional food. And it took both of us taking turns to hold her and put one or the other apparatus on her without her escaping the cage.
And once she was secure, K carried her to the car and we drove the short distance back to our house. Our own dogs being in their places for the night, the downstairs was available for her and we put her on the dogs’ “chair” (it was a chair, once) and set about freeing her from the wire.

Four different sorts of pliers/wirecutters wouldn’t do it, but the sewing shears worked.
And she’s had some food – we don’t know whether she’s helped herself to the water, but it’s there. And a long, quiet rest. At first she spent some time looking for a way out – or was she just looking for a cozier part of the basement to  hide in? But she’s been offered “walkies” several times and has not condescended to go out. Yet.
Today the people from the Protectora came to collect their trap, and to see the dog and comiserate with us, discuss veterinary treatment for the damaged paw, &c.
All this time I’ve been saying I didn’t suspect anyone of doing  that to her, that she must have scrambled after a rabbit through some brush where someone had carelessly tossed a bit of baling wire, or…
But now that I’ve examined the wire cable, it looks suspiciously like a trap. I said it to K, and he said “That’s what they said,” meaning the Protectora people. They think it must be taken to the police, because it is just as illegal to trap anything like that as it was to shoot Ruskin, when Ruskin was shot.
Warning: distressing image:
Update: This morning when K came back from walking Ruskin and Sandy (it’s been a juggle, taking each one outside so as not to foment discord) the Lady was very civil as they came in, and then she got up and whined at the door, bacause Capone had gone round with them and was visible through the glass. So I quickly snapped a lead on her and took her out and we followed Capone around a bit (I gave him some hints where to go – he’s pretty co-operative. He knows I have dog treats in my pocket at all times!) and she finally had several wees and a crap.
And Then during breakfast she came upstairs and poked her nose over the barricade. And everyone has had some of the free liver from my friendly carnissera, Pilar (thanks, Pilar!) for lunch.
If I can get a decent shot of her I shall, but she’s chosen her  preferred corner of the house and she’s sticking with it. Not Ruskin’s spot on the sofa nor Sandy’s in front of the butane heater, but a bit of floor between the sofa, a chair and the coffee table. So I guess she feels more secure there.
She has a vet appointment for Monday morning.
And we hope she’ll soon be as healthy as she was in October – and happier if we can make her so.
Thank-you, again to everyone who has given us moral and spiritual support toward helping her – in the village, and via FaceBook, &c. Thank-you all!


About Catanea

I'm 1/2 of "Keith⁊Amanda" - that's a Tironian "&", but it confuses people, so we write it with a "7" [seven]. Calligraphers. In Catalonia.
This entry was posted in not letterish nor bathish. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Stray Dog Saga

  1. Chiton Butterworth says:

    Well written Maman, thank you for your perseverance. I love you!

  2. A. J. P. Crown says:

    What a great-looking dog. It’s lucky you have so many pairs of pliers, probably something to do with calligraphy.

    • catannea says:

      She is very pretty, isn’t she? And she has beautiful furry feet, so it is even sadder that one is so injured. I don’t know about the pliers, though, Mr Crown. After all in this case none of them were of any use. I don’t think we’ve ever bought any pliers. They just seem to accrue.
      [Now I’ll see whether my italic tags work here…]

  3. A. J. P. Crown says:

    Sorry, I see I was lumping the sewing shears together with the pliers, and in my mind’s eye I was actually seeing wire cutters – which don’t always work, either.

    So what happened at the vet?

  4. catannea says:

    The red ones at the left purport to be wirecutters. But not, apparently cable cutters. I guess the shears worked because they cut one twisted strand of cable at a time, whereas the wirecutters were somehow made to press on the ductility of a single strand. Or something.
    K dropped her off at the vet on his way to Barcelona this morning, and will pick her up on the way back. Fingers crossed.
    I am concerned that with all the upheaval she has been having – the inital injury, the stress of our pursuing her, a couple of days in a domestic situation with Other Strange Dogs – now depending on what they do to her injured paw, they may also be spaying her at the same time (I think we don’t get a choice about this, but K will let me know) she may now come “home” in a silly cone (or lampshade, as you referred to it, on one of your capering ladies). I wish I could offer her a little more peace and stability. But we hope that will come.
    She’ll also likely get innoculations. And if Motorscooter Neighbour is correct and she has a chip, we may have some sort of conflict (or not) about ownership with a registered proprietor. I don’t know what to expect. I’m just trying to clean floors and do a little work, at the moment. I will publish the results.
    Thank-you for your concern.

  5. catannea says:

    [Interesting: I typed this elsewhere and pasted it in. The italics disappeared; but the “smiley” got pictorialized.]

  6. catannea says:

    Oooh, the internet is here.
    The vet x-rayed her foot. No bones are broken and it should heal completely. But the radiografia also revealed a quantity of birdshot. She was spayed at the same time. Nonetheless she has no “cone”. Now we are trying to integrate her into our dog family. Sandy and Ruskin have their noses out of joint – she’s bigger than they are, and sometimes seems to be getting more attention. So we have to lavish attention on them. And rely on our beloved neighbours (who voluntarily look after our dogs when we’re away – if they hadn’t offered, we would never have even adopted Ruskin) to take on board the details of the dog-diplomacy, too, as we’ll be away over Christmas. Grandmas need at least as much attention as stray-dogs!

  7. Oh my what a story!
    Update pls.
    Is her name ‘Saga’? or Ruskin…
    I’m enthralled.

    • catannea says:

      Her name is, unimaginatively, “Lady” although she gets referred to as THE Lady, so I imagine to myself that she is actually named for Aung San Suu Kyi (who is at least an Oxford graduate). We were calling her “Lady” when we tried to lure her to us, and it stuck. “Ruskin” is our other Podengo (found and adopted 2004; shot 2011, but fine now – more thoughtfully named) and “Sandy” is a “fluffball” not unlike a cocker-poo, found and adopted 2006, if I’ve got all my dates right whose name was given to her by the village children (who imagined she looks like Little Orphan Annie’s dog although it is much taller, male, and has no eyes). I will update soon and will manage to include photos of the caninie units.
      I will update.

  8. Pingback: The increasingly long tail tale of when Ruskin was shot | Ante-Bath Notes

  9. Pingback: Good-bye, Sandy | Ante-Bath Notes

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s