This little girl needs your help.
If you haven't been following her story, let me start from the
beginning.
My husband, Peter started working in the US Virgin Islands on
hurricane recovery back in the beginning of January. Working 55 and more hours
per week, he has his work cut out for him.
One day, while inspecting a park along the Christiansted harbor, a
dog comes up to him. She has engorged nipples and is begging for food. Peter
didn't have any on him. He wonders what to do. Capturing her would be
disastrous for the pups she must have hidden somewhere. Finally, she wanders off and he
goes back to work.
I arrive on the island a few days later. He has told me about the dog.
He takes me to the spot where she had found him/he had found her, same
difference. We don't see her. But as we drive along, there is a small black dog
on the side of the road. The dog looks up at us expectantly. This is our first
encounter with her. But it wouldn't be our last.
Upon returning to the park, it is evident it is inhabited by abandoned
cats and dogs. Joggers, fishermen, picnicking families, people on their lunch
break, some homeless also use the park. But it is the animals that dominate.
And upon careful inspection, we see the bowls, dishes, paper plates and take
out containers left here and there by caring folks. The park is surrounded by
salt water, so thoughtful residents leave cups and tubs of fresh water.
One day while we were there, we encountered a man standing in the
thick brush surrounded by cats. Peter hops out of our truck to ask if he's seen
the black puppy. By now, we've seen other dogs besides her. Dogs that look
freshly bathed, happy, healthy, unlike the black pup. He says, he's seen her,
but not that day. Sometimes, she naps on that side of the park. He's found her
sheltered under bushes surrounded by a broken down fence. He's tried to capture
her, he tells Peter. He almost had her in a trap but someone honked their horn
and she was gone. She won't go near him now, he says. She's a smart dog.
We borrowed a cage from the St.Croix Animal Welfare Center. When I
called to let them know about her, they said they were aware of her. Could we
capture her, they are so short staffed? After Hurricane Maria decimated their
kennels, knocked down their gate, vandals stole and destroyed what was left of
their facility. They were just starting to get back on their feet, finding an
old Veterinary office as their temporary in-take clinic and soon were going to
open a new adoption storefront.
With residents still out of power, thousands of homes still in
disrepair, residents have had to abandon their pets. Over 1,000 school children
and their families have had to relocate to the mainland since the two
hurricanes hit in August. Evacuated residents were not able to bring all of
their family members, which meant there has been an influx of strays.
We
set up the cage and lured the pup to us. Many times, we could have caught cats,
no problem, even one of the other dogs. But the black dog evaded us. While she
was not afraid of us, she didn't come to us to be petted, either. Not wanting to stress
her out even more by just grabbing her, not to mention, the possibility of her
biting, we took it slowly and tried to gain her trust.
After
spending several weeks observing her, we determined that she most likely spent
the past month at least, living on her own out here. We estimated her age based
on her size and coordination to be around 3 months, maybe a little more. She
had probably spent half of her young life living by her wits. As the guy
said, she’s a smart dog.
One
thing we realized is that there were lots of people feeding the animals. This
would make it harder for us to capture her. She wasn’t that hungry. This says a
lot about the people here. In the two weeks I went with Peter to get this dog
to Animal Welfare, we met four people who had tried to catch her. With her
mange, everyone knew she needed help. Four people and countless others who
cared for the abandoned pets, giving them water and food. A mother daughter out
for their evening walk told us they’d seen several people trying to get her.
They had noticed her for the first time about a week before I landed in St.
Croix. Were we going to keep her, they asked. No. We were going to turn her
over to Animal Welfare. They knew the shelter was destroyed but they didn’t
know they were accepting animals again. Good to know, they said. Good to know.
One
day, we actually had the pup in the cage. But when Peter went to close the door,
she scooted out. She was a little less trusting after that, but still, she’d
come to us. She’d eat the hot dogs. She’d look us in the eye and when she was
full, she would leave.
A
cat was standing near the water dish one day and the pup was thirsty. She
didn’t charge the cat, but the cat hissed and arched her back. The black pup
slowed her approach and the cat left reluctantly. But no scratches, no bites.
Another time, there was this adorable Corgi/German Shepherd mix, a puppy too,
who spotted us with our hot dogs and came prancing over. The two dogs exchanged
sniffs and she gave him a wide berth, sitting a few feet away. I would catch
her looking over at us, but she let the other dog have his fill. Then, when he
as done, she returned. She understood the rules of the park, rules of
engagement. She is a smart, smart dog.
Peter
had plans for us for Valentine’s Day. We were going to go for lunch and head
over to see the Whim museum, and then spend the rest of the day in Fredricksted
where we had dinner reservations. Ok, Ok, he agreed. We’ll go check on the
puppy. Afterall, we had not caught her and I was to leave in two days. We can
only spend a few minutes, he said. An hour later, I was covered in mosquito
bites, she had evaded us yet again, and disappeared into the thick bush only to
appear so far down a mud path we couldn’t get near her.
After
I left, Peter’s work doubled, so he couldn’t go to the park as often as he’d
like. He’d tried several times, starting to rethink the idea of a cage over a
trap. There were several days when he didn’t see her. Some days he didn’t make
it at all. But one day, he half-heartedly swung into the area he’d seen her
last and there she was. She hopped up and came right up to him. He put out the
cage, threw in a few hot dog pieces and she went right in. Easy. The easiest
day so far. He closed the door and loaded her onto the back of his truck and
away they went. Finally, she would be seen by a Vet. Finally, they could treat
her mange. Finally, she would be fed, bathed, and cared for. Only, she didn’t
understand. She was scared, shivering and sad. She yipped for the first time.
And she sneered and growled. She threw up all of the food she’d had that day.
She peed herself. She didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know it would
be for her own good. Or was it?
Two
days at the Center and they hadn’t really been able to go near her. They even
kept saying she was a he. Her tail tucked so close under her body made it
impossible to see. She was a bite risk. The Vet and staff and volunteers were
so overworked, a mangy stray dog was the least of their concerns.
But
not ours.
At
the risk of making a pest of myself, I kept emailing the Center. I kept sending
Peter in. He volunteered to help them get FEMA to pay attention to their needs.
We wanted to make sure this puppy was not forgotten. Was not put down.
One
day, three days after he’d brought her in, he went to see her. He had to sign a
waiver and as such, became an official St. Croix Animal Welfare Center
volunteer. He asked to walk her. “Sure.” She’d been out earlier, but they were
sure she’d want to go out again. He was confused. Wasn’t she a bite risk? Guess
not. He brought her outside, she peed right away and walked nicely on the
leash. She still wouldn’t go near enough to him to let him pet her, but she
wasn’t pulling to get away either. He feared he stressed her out, afterall, he
had been the reason she was now trapped. But after a few more visits, she
relaxed a little. Enough so that he could check out her underside, and with her
tail now up in the air instead of being tucked under, he confirmed that she was
indeed a girl.
In
the last few days, it’s still been hard for him to get much info about her. But
she has been spayed, seems to be housebroken, has less scabs and more black
glossy hair covering up her bald scaly patches. She is smart, he can tell, although
he’s not sure why he thinks that.
Mid-March,
he gets to take a week off and return to our home in NY. He hopes he can bring
“Cole” the name I’ve given her for now. With so many unwanted dogs in St.
Croix, the Center encourages travelers to transport them to the mainland for
other shelters to find them forever homes. At first, Cole was considered a very
poor candidate for adoption. Did we want to adopt her, the Center asked? Of
course! But we have two big spoiled poorly behaved male dogs at home. And Peter
lives with other disaster relief workers in a home rented by his company, he
can’t keep her there. And so, what to do?
We
(well, really Peter) captured her so that she could have a better life. We
certainly didn’t rescue her only for her to be put down. So…if Cole and the
story of her capture has captured your heart, please let me know. If you can
provide her a loving home, a life where she is safe, cared for and loved,
please contact me. There is no expense to you. The Center will make sure she is
updated on vaccinations and treated for mange, and as I said,
she has already been spayed. We will pay for her transport to New York from St.
Croix. All you have to do is love her.
I
can be reached at Cecilia at womensworkbw dot com. This very special girl who
stole our hearts, I’m sure will capture yours. Please help me find her the home
she deserves.
