Dying Dogs

In Memoriam: Rusty, died November 19th

So, where to begin... First, I did not grow up with dogs so I can't say I know exactly what to make of them.   And this fact is not helped by being a dog owner in Uganda.  First, Ugandans are typically scared of dogs and mostly use them as guard dogs.  And my husband this year executed the expat campus campaign to get pre-exposure rabies shots because indeed dogs are worthy of fear--many of them are wild dogs that run in packs, aren't cared for, are inbred, are lacking food and love.... i.e. the typical dog is not living a great life in Uganda.  And for that matter the typical person is suffering in Uganda.  So, how exactly does one translate that reality into our pro-pets, pro-love of animals, pro-man and nature are on the same team vs. a more man vs. nature reality that many people experience in Uganda? 

Well, I can't say we intended to be dog owners.  Our first dog chose us.  He was the dog of a Ugandan colleague of ours and quickly took to Mark.  So, though he was owned by the Opols, he actually followed Mark to and from work every day.  He then proceeded to take up residence on our porch and if i recall correctly, the Opols resigned themselves to their dogless fate.  And so began our first "American" style relationship with our pet dog, Caleb (called Calebu because you often don't ended a word on a consonant).  And he was an awesome dog.  And he and Daniel were fast friends.  Mark, being the good left brained husband/dad that he was did not respond well to this reply when he asked what he could do to help me with a toddler, "Just look around and help me some".  So, we figured out that the defined task he could do was take Daniel on an hour walk every morning-- I could get some coffee and get myself ready for the day.  Well, the walk became a walk with Daniel and Calebu... a trio who quickly was known by early morning campus folks. 

I think the photos say it all in terms of his gentleness with Daniel and Daniel's fondness for Calebu.  So it was a sad day when we discovered that Calebu had eatened poisoned food.  Unfortunately due to the packs of wild dogs that roam campus, the security guards have to regular poison some of the garbage pits to try and keep the pack down.  I'm now forgetting the details but Calebu got off his chain and found some poison and we all genuinely mourned his passing.  But due to the context and due to the reality that many people suffer in Uganda (and many suffer from wild dogs), we came to terms with the fact that though we might have pets, we could not presume the level of control or life expectancy that one might one owned pets in the Western world.  And that was sad and humbling, but also natural and somehow part of a whole acceptance of what is out of our control and how the world isn't fair in very personal ways to very systemic ways.  And it's good to teach the children to grieve.  And its okay to be guarded about future pet relations. 


So, after Calebu, came Rusty and Spotty--- supposedly from the same litter which might beg the breeding question:

Not a great shot of Rusty, but Spotty was the black dog with a little white on his chest.  Mary looked at the pictures today and said, "but I don't see spots".... true, we inherited the names with the brothers--Rusty having more spots than Spotty.  But they were a good pair--Spotty was alert and sweet, Rusty was mellow and sweet.  We're not sure we ever heard Rusty bark.  Anyway, Spotty, the favored one in Daniel's eyes, also fell to the fate of poisoned meat.  We had chained him up for four days but when we released him, he managed to find some poisoned meat.  At this point, even Daniel wised up to how much attachment one should have to one's pets.  

We realized that we would never really release the dogs again and built a pretty substantial fence behind the house.  Rusty soon gained a companion when our friends who adopted a stray puppy needed to find a home for her as they were moving to the U.S.   Athena is sharp and a perfect guard dog.  She barks at new people (seemingly a bit more at Ugandan new people which always makes me a bit self-conscious, but i suppose barking at new people is her job).  And she likes to run and play and she and Rusty got along fine as Athena despite some attempted mating moments early on that seemed to subside in the last year as perhaps Rusty's health officially declined.  

Rusty has been getting progressively weak over the last couple weeks and we knew last night that she was dying.  However, the Uganda factor still weighed on us.  We've always kept the dogs outside... mark tried to set up a tarp for her to lie on as opposed to the mud and large drainage issue puddle off our back stoop.  But despite her little mobility, she scooted off the tarp and appeared to want to be on the stone patio near the puddle to breath her last.  I am praying she died around 8pm because we had literally the largest rain storm we've ever had.  I was sure that our house was struck by lightening (Mark not so sure) and it rained so hard for hours.  I couldn't sleep at all, just restless at the thought of Rusty outside being pounded on by the rain, unable to find dry shelter (we did build in a dry place by our water pump), and just surrending to his death.  Theological questions aside, we hope that she died quickly and without too much pain.  And we may build a memorial shelter closer to our house for her future dog followers--Athena being the most immediate beneficiary.

As with all things, you have all these emotions about what is personal to you.  So i had a sense of loss and the marking of time and family life that each dog represents.  And the sadness that in a way, you can't afford to let yourself love them and pet them and take them in.  I'm always struck that when USP students come to our house, they sort of gravitate towards our dogs as though they were American pets, and they just aren't.  Then there's the fact, that while you are mourning a dog, there are probably thousands of humans suffering badly in a storm like that with flooding, poor roofing, all the disease that gathers around lots of standing waters, violent lightening/thunderstorms... 

You can't quite let yourself feel that the world is over because your pet died.  But you are sad, and life isn't fair.  And will we see our pets in heaven?  And can God bring them back? (Mary's tearful question). 

Yes, we're sad and yes we're reconciled to our pet reality here.  And yes, we feel that God would want peace and security and provision for all his creation, but also live in the reality that we're part of bringing that peaceable kingdom.  We pondered what we're supposed to say at the doggie burial---mostly that we're thankful that we had a good dog, that God wants us to be in right relationship with animals and that in his time God will give and take away.  And so we commend Rusty to the earth.