Perritos
It never ceases to amaze me that however many dogs I meet, each has its own unique personality.
We came home on Friday evening and these two were under our patio furniture.
Simon
River
How did they get there? Who put them there? Who do they belong to? What kind of dogs are they?
These things we will never know, but I can guess.
They had a home once. A mother, siblings, a warm place. Someone trained them to live in a crate and take care of certain business outside. Someone fed them out of a bowl and taught them to socialize with people. A person cared about them.
But something happened and they lost that home. Maybe they were ignored and unrestrained and wandered away and became lost. Maybe they were the last two and everyone else had been given away and a cruel person decided that they weren't needed anymore.
However it happened, they were left on the street. They were born on the same day but River felt like the elder. Simon deferred to her in all decisions, happier to follow her than make up his mind on his own. Wherever they came from River led them to our house. Simon didn't want to move, he'd rather crawl in a hole and hide. But something called her to us and he followed because he didn't want to be alone. She found water for them and things for them to eat. She found a bed of mint in an unkempt yard, and led him over to eat it with her. When they heard my car she led him under the furniture where it was safe and quiet like their crate back home.
And when I walked up they stayed there hidden and I didn't notice. When Tara walked up, she saw them. If she hadn't River would have moved on, tried to find another place to hide and eat. They might have died together on the street or in an alley. They might have been split up and left alone. The thought of that scares me.
To think that we were meant to find them and that this was not a coincidence is to fall prey to the fallacy of magical thinking. But now that we have found them we have to acknowledge that we have a responsibility to them. For better or worse, they have found a home, for now at least, and they will not be expelled from it unless they have another to go to. They don't need to be fugitives anymore.
We came home on Friday evening and these two were under our patio furniture.
Simon
River
How did they get there? Who put them there? Who do they belong to? What kind of dogs are they?
These things we will never know, but I can guess.
They had a home once. A mother, siblings, a warm place. Someone trained them to live in a crate and take care of certain business outside. Someone fed them out of a bowl and taught them to socialize with people. A person cared about them.
But something happened and they lost that home. Maybe they were ignored and unrestrained and wandered away and became lost. Maybe they were the last two and everyone else had been given away and a cruel person decided that they weren't needed anymore.
However it happened, they were left on the street. They were born on the same day but River felt like the elder. Simon deferred to her in all decisions, happier to follow her than make up his mind on his own. Wherever they came from River led them to our house. Simon didn't want to move, he'd rather crawl in a hole and hide. But something called her to us and he followed because he didn't want to be alone. She found water for them and things for them to eat. She found a bed of mint in an unkempt yard, and led him over to eat it with her. When they heard my car she led him under the furniture where it was safe and quiet like their crate back home.
And when I walked up they stayed there hidden and I didn't notice. When Tara walked up, she saw them. If she hadn't River would have moved on, tried to find another place to hide and eat. They might have died together on the street or in an alley. They might have been split up and left alone. The thought of that scares me.
To think that we were meant to find them and that this was not a coincidence is to fall prey to the fallacy of magical thinking. But now that we have found them we have to acknowledge that we have a responsibility to them. For better or worse, they have found a home, for now at least, and they will not be expelled from it unless they have another to go to. They don't need to be fugitives anymore.