Not only did they have a dog for us to foster, but she also had just had seven puppies. We'd have the puppies until they reached eight weeks and were ready for adoption, and we'd keep momma for an additional week to dry out.
We asked for time to consider this request, but obviously, we accepted the challenge. We accepted not knowing anything about momma dog or even seeing pictures of the pack. Not that it mattered really. We were all in.
When we arrived at the humane society, the oh-so-adorable puppies were loaded into the car, but momma dog was slow to join her babies. Her handler ended up carrying her to the car. That should have been a sign of things to come. The foster coordinator had little to share about momma, except she was picked up on one of the surrounding Native American reservations. We'd just gotten ourselves a "Rez Dog," a most cringe-worthy term.
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| Sage's early days with us. |
We had renamed momma "Sage" before we'd left the humane society parking lot. This young dog, estimated at about 2-years old, had just had a huge litter. A large litter is tasking on all dams (yep, I have major issues with the term "bitch"), but Sage was probably already emaciated before birthing seven new lives, so she came to us with just skin on bones, and, as our 3-year-old neighbor tactfully stated, "lots of big boobies on her butt."
We set up the nursery in a tiled indoor space with access to an outdoor run. Sage seemed content with her new digs. She explored her space, did her business, and settled in the whelping box to care for her pups. While she was reserved, she was gentle and friendly enough. She even greeted us with a tail wag her first morning.
All was well for the first day or so, and then, she became frantic and tried desperately to escape from the outdoor run. As makeshift as the run was, it held Sage in, but we became equally desperate to figure out what was upsetting her. It was a rough 24 hours.
It dawned on me that she was likely used to doing her business at the place of her choosing -- somewhere far away from her living space. She didn't want to soil her run. Well, that was an easy enough problem to solve. I'd just take her for a walk, letting her relieve herself and giving her a break from her puppies. I was feeling like a veritable dog whisperer.
In the Southwest, Rez Dogs are ubiquitous. Anyone traveling through the region who stops for gas in the Navajo Nation has probably had one or more of these dogs brazenly approach you in search of a handout. To the uninformed, they are feral dogs.
However, we learned that Native Americans view them very differently. While there are many dogs who have simply been abandoned, many of them are working dogs and viewed as partners to Natives. They are not pets though. They are "free range" in the most absolute sense of the phrase. The general expectation is that these dogs live as nature intended, so they roam far and wide. They are rarely fixed or vaccinated. Life in this region is hard. It's a desert so it's dry. It's hot in the summer, cold in the winter. Acquiring enough food and water to survive takes a lot of work, so their lifespans are pretty short -- even for a dog. However, if they do "belong" to a family, they are fiercely loyal and take their jobs very seriously. The takeway from our studies was that these dogs are not pets, they are partners.
The larger global lesson here is that we tend to default to thinking everyone should fit within our preconceived notions. This simply is not the case. We will always have something to learn about everyone (including ourselves). Commit yourself to being a lifelong student.
Lesson #2: Take time to truly hear others. I consider Chris and I to be sympathetic and accommodating people. Sage quickly showed us that we were acting from assumptions based on our experiences. We needed to slow down and actually comprehend what she was trying to tell us because it was vastly different than what we expected to hear. She is not a bad dog. Quite the contrary. But she has been thrown into a world that is completely different from the one she knew, and not only that, she also has a pack dependent on her. Everything in the past month was foreign to her. She desperately needed us to hear her in order to be her partner and help her figure things out.
We set up the nursery in a tiled indoor space with access to an outdoor run. Sage seemed content with her new digs. She explored her space, did her business, and settled in the whelping box to care for her pups. While she was reserved, she was gentle and friendly enough. She even greeted us with a tail wag her first morning.
All was well for the first day or so, and then, she became frantic and tried desperately to escape from the outdoor run. As makeshift as the run was, it held Sage in, but we became equally desperate to figure out what was upsetting her. It was a rough 24 hours.
It dawned on me that she was likely used to doing her business at the place of her choosing -- somewhere far away from her living space. She didn't want to soil her run. Well, that was an easy enough problem to solve. I'd just take her for a walk, letting her relieve herself and giving her a break from her puppies. I was feeling like a veritable dog whisperer.
Then, I attached the leash to her collar. You'd have thought I just lassoed a mustang.
Our sole instructions from the humane society were to make sure the puppies were well cared for, and they would work with Sage after the puppies were weaned. It sounded simple enough at the time, but all of a sudden, we're wondering how we are supposed to care well for the puppies if their primary caregiver is feeling tortured and doing everything she can to escape.
Our sole instructions from the humane society were to make sure the puppies were well cared for, and they would work with Sage after the puppies were weaned. It sounded simple enough at the time, but all of a sudden, we're wondering how we are supposed to care well for the puppies if their primary caregiver is feeling tortured and doing everything she can to escape.
Lesson #1: We will always be students so do your homework. We were quick to realize that this dog had never been on a leash. If she had any prior tangible link to humans, it was probably a catch pole, and she was clearly traumatized. Very quickly, we understood that we had a lot to learn about "Rez Dogs." We were dealing with a sentient being who had no concept of being a pet and certainly was not going to fit into our preconceived notions about the relationship between dogs and humans. We started reading.
In the Southwest, Rez Dogs are ubiquitous. Anyone traveling through the region who stops for gas in the Navajo Nation has probably had one or more of these dogs brazenly approach you in search of a handout. To the uninformed, they are feral dogs.
However, we learned that Native Americans view them very differently. While there are many dogs who have simply been abandoned, many of them are working dogs and viewed as partners to Natives. They are not pets though. They are "free range" in the most absolute sense of the phrase. The general expectation is that these dogs live as nature intended, so they roam far and wide. They are rarely fixed or vaccinated. Life in this region is hard. It's a desert so it's dry. It's hot in the summer, cold in the winter. Acquiring enough food and water to survive takes a lot of work, so their lifespans are pretty short -- even for a dog. However, if they do "belong" to a family, they are fiercely loyal and take their jobs very seriously. The takeway from our studies was that these dogs are not pets, they are partners.
The larger global lesson here is that we tend to default to thinking everyone should fit within our preconceived notions. This simply is not the case. We will always have something to learn about everyone (including ourselves). Commit yourself to being a lifelong student.
Lesson #2: Take time to truly hear others. I consider Chris and I to be sympathetic and accommodating people. Sage quickly showed us that we were acting from assumptions based on our experiences. We needed to slow down and actually comprehend what she was trying to tell us because it was vastly different than what we expected to hear. She is not a bad dog. Quite the contrary. But she has been thrown into a world that is completely different from the one she knew, and not only that, she also has a pack dependent on her. Everything in the past month was foreign to her. She desperately needed us to hear her in order to be her partner and help her figure things out.
Next global lesson: In this era of social media headlines, tweets, and memes, we so quickly react to what we think we hear, instead of what is actually said. We all would be better served if we paused to actually absorb what we hear or read before reacting. I'm constantly amazed when I see people share or comment on articles they haven't even read. Take time to read and think about new information.
Lesson #3: It is hard work. Be patient. Once we successfully got Sage on a leash, our lessons turned to walking while on it. We made this as positive an experience as possible. Rez Dogs are highly food motivated as they are never sure about their next meal. She quickly learned that leashing up led to relief and snacks. At some point, though, we had to return from our walk to the puppies. It took nearly a week to get her to willingly cross the threshold back into the house. It took significant patience and lots of treats.
Injustices have plagued this country since its early days. This is lifelong work. It will not be settled overnight. We need to be patient, determined, and willing to work hard. Above all, it is imperative that we work together for the benefit of future generations.
Lesson #3: It is hard work. Be patient. Once we successfully got Sage on a leash, our lessons turned to walking while on it. We made this as positive an experience as possible. Rez Dogs are highly food motivated as they are never sure about their next meal. She quickly learned that leashing up led to relief and snacks. At some point, though, we had to return from our walk to the puppies. It took nearly a week to get her to willingly cross the threshold back into the house. It took significant patience and lots of treats.
I was teaching Sage to walk on a leash as #BlackLivesMatter protests ramped up across the county. I was struggling being in this rural corner of Colorado, spending most of my energy on simply trying to get Sage in and out of the house so she could pee. It seemed so insignificant. I couldn't help feeling that I should be doing more to support those amplifying the call for social justice. Then, it dawned on me that this wildly independent momma dog was reminding me of lessons that I needed to hear -- perhaps all of us need to hear.
Injustices have plagued this country since its early days. This is lifelong work. It will not be settled overnight. We need to be patient, determined, and willing to work hard. Above all, it is imperative that we work together for the benefit of future generations.
Three weeks in, Sage and I have learned so much about each other, and we are starting to have fun. Together, we are providing her puppies a great start (along with lots of other friends). A month from now, Sage and her puppies will hopefully be in their forever homes, and then, I'll enter the fray on our larger societal issues. In the meantime, I'm going to keep listening to this wise and gentle soul.
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| Sage Dog |
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