How Much Is That Doggie In The Ukraine?

A friend and reader responded to my last blog with a note about a CBC story she’d seen. A Canadian veterinarian and his daughter have gone to the Ukraine to help out. I checked it out. Kudos to Dr. Cliff Redford. At great personal risk you are making a positive difference in an unseen corner of this humanitarian tragedy. So far, two people have died while transporting rescued animals out of the war zone. There is a huge population of dogs, cats and other creatures which were abandoned. Some are injured, some suffering from acute hunger and thirst and illness. And, I don’t recall anyone ever being shot at by a dog.

It is horrible. What a terrible decision to have to make. You can only take what you can carry and so often the pet just has to stay behind. Other folks have chosen to leave their stuff and bring their pet. I know the choice I would make. Then I stumbled across stories about hungry Russian troops raping women and eating dogs. I recall accounts from German civilians at the end of the second world war as Russian marched into East Germany. The civilians had already endured a horrific ordeal and the war’s end brought them no liberation. I have also heard accounts of how we, the good guys, are just as capable of the same atrocities. Some things never change, we’re still the same beasts we always were. I began to research an avenue for adopting a Ukrainian dog but all the online contacts I’ve found seem suspicious to me. There will be legitimate means established to adopt dogs eventually but in the meantime I’ll just have to keep looking.

I continue to look for a local dog who needs a fresh start. Charity begins at home, right? There are dogs available, but most are too big for life in the camper and any extended travel. There are also plenty of pit bull terriers with which I have no problem but there are plenty of people who do. I don’t need an incessant hassle. Most dogs have a huge monetary price attached and I’m suspicious of folks who claim to be looking for a good home for their canine charges and then mention “Oh by the way” they have a huge adoption fee. I know caring for a dog and providing shelter for more to come costs money but every dog I’ve had cost nothing in dollars and were wonderful friends. The idea of paying for a furry soul mate just seems wrong unless the expense is explainable. Then there are the rescue folks who simply don’t answer your inquiries. Nice!

And so our reluctant spring grinds on. The ongoing dark saga from the Ukraine is dragging us all down. The weather seems to echo our sentiments. We have moments of spring between the massive epilogue of winter. It is mostly cold and wet and gloomy. Still! It seems to be all I’ve written about for a long time. Photographing spring flowers trembling in a wintry wind beneath the dull light of grey clouds is wearing thin.

I’ve hired a lady who is helping me set up a marketing program for my writing and photography. It’s all over my head, suddenly I find myself with business pages on Face Book. As things were linked up, ten random blogs selected from my archives were posted on Face Book. While in the process these blogs appeared together in a blizzard to all my subscribers. I apologize sincerely to all you folks for the nuisance. I was also forwarded the following which may be soggy cookies but it moved this old flower who has felt guilt about looking for another dog so soon after Jack’s passing.

A DOG’S LAST WILL & TESTAMENT

 Before  humans die, they write their last will and testament, give their home and all they have to those they leave behind. 

 If, with my paws, I could do the same, this is what I’d ask…

 To a poor and lonely stray I’d give my happy home; my bowl and cozy bed, soft pillow and all my toys; the lap, which I loved so much;

the hand that stroked my fur; and the sweet voice that spoke my name.

 I’d will to the sad, scared shelter dog, the place I had in my human’s loving heart, of which there seemed no bounds.

 So, when I die, please do not say, “I will never have a pet again, for the loss and pain is more than I can stand.”

 Instead go find an unloved dog, one whose life has held no joy or hope, and give my place to him.

 This is the only thing I can give…

The love I left behind.

Author: Fred Bailey

Fred is a slightly-past middle age sailor / writer / photographer with plenty of eclectic hands-on skills and experiences. Some would describe him as the old hippy who doesn't know the war is over. He is certainly reluctant to grow up and readily admits to being the eternal dreamer. He has written several books including two novels, 'The Keeper' and 'Storm Ecstasy,' as well as 'The Water Rushing By', 'Sins Of The Fathers', 'The Magic Stick', as well as an extensive inventory of poetry, essays, short stories, anecdotes and photographs. His first passion is the ocean, sailboats, voyaging and all those people who are similarly drawn to the sea. He lives aboard 'Seafire' the boat he is refitting to go voyaging, exploring new horizons both inner and outer. This blog is about that voyage and the preparations for it. In spite of the odds against it, the plan is to sail away this fall and lay a course southward. If you follow this blog your interest may provide some of the energy that helps fuel the journey. Namaste Contact him at svpaxboat@gmail.com View all posts by Fred Bailey