Wish I could start this post with, The Dogs are Back! Alas, it isn't so. It has been 10 days today and while part of me wants to remain positive, another part says, no way. When they went missing for 9 days all those years ago, even though it was winter, they were younger dogs. Younger and stronger. Now they are both on arthritis supplements. Jamaica especially carries no extra weight. Jamaica is also on the special diet for a tender tummy, the hypoallergenic food so 'roughing it' just isn't in his lexicon. But worse than that this is the Tweed. It's rain forest and thus has many biting and bloodsucking insects; flies, mosquitoes, sand flies and especially leeches. I have had two on me since we've been here and I wasn't wandering through the bush. I can't see how two fine boned and finely fleshed dogs with little in the way of a protective coat can survive.
Other than that, and that's a big that, I am so grateful to be here. Rang our ex-neighbours yesterday and heard the gut-wrenching news that the quarry is going ahead. Trucks have been in and out, the rock crusher is coming and quarrying is to start early next year.
Despite The Lost Dogs, the ups and downs of getting here, the doubts, the fear, the stress, ultimately I believed all was as it should be, that the timing was right and we were doing just as were supposed to do. For a moment last night, when I was breathing in the night and gazing at the black silhouettes of The Sisters and Mt. Warning, even losing the dogs seemed a part of the greater whole and therefore part of the mysterious warp and woof of existence. After all, they have their destinies to fulfill as well. They could've chosen not to run away or to only run a little way and then come home. They chose, for whatever reason, otherwise. So, with this enveloping feeling of rightness, even the news of the quarry seemed to be part of the final look of the jigsaw.
We were right after all. All was, and is, as it should be and trusting in the process, in the rightness of being and timing, is the path to peace. With or without wayward dogs.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Friday, September 16, 2016
Radar and Jamaica Lost
New beginnings. Settlement day for this property was September 1; the first day of spring, the night of the new moon. This property is everything I wished for and more but my joy has been overshadowed by tragic circumstances. Four days ago the dogs went missing. We'd been leaving Jamaica off the lead during the day as he was happy to potter about the house and not go anywhere. Radar, on the other hand, twice went walkabout. The first time we gave him the benefit of the doubt (while Jamaica was tied up, just in case) and, true to his nature, he went bush. The second time Richard let him off for a pee and forgot about tying him back up again. But the third and final time, the rope which had held for over a week tied to a vise, came undone. Jamaica was off and now, so was Radar, trailing 5 feet of rope. They disappeared and haven't been seen since. I fear the rope has become entangled in the thick underbrush and even if he wanted to come home, he can't and Jamaica, always the underdog, won't leave him.
Year ago, when they were much younger dogs, they went missing for 9 days. We'd had rain so there was groundwater to drink but I doubt whether they ate anything other than pulling at something dead and stinking which they both reeked of when they were finally found, collapsed on the side of the road 2 kilometres from home. They were skeletal. Their paw pads where shredded and oozing blood and serum. They were within days of dying.
During that 9 days, in an area where everyone knew them, knew they were missing and they knew their way around no one saw them. Here they don't know their way around, no one knows them and we've had rain or showers every day to wash away their scent trail so even if Radar isn't caught up in some tree root they couldn't retrace their steps.
We've put notices up in Uki, on telegraph poles and have rung all local vets and the pound. My new and lovely yoga teacher, Julia put a notice up on the Uki Community page while Karen, Wilma's daughter, who lives at Stokers Siding has added the information to two other Facebook groups.
Every night Richard and I wake up, separately and together, hear the rain, feel the cold and think of them. This is their last photo.
Year ago, when they were much younger dogs, they went missing for 9 days. We'd had rain so there was groundwater to drink but I doubt whether they ate anything other than pulling at something dead and stinking which they both reeked of when they were finally found, collapsed on the side of the road 2 kilometres from home. They were skeletal. Their paw pads where shredded and oozing blood and serum. They were within days of dying.
During that 9 days, in an area where everyone knew them, knew they were missing and they knew their way around no one saw them. Here they don't know their way around, no one knows them and we've had rain or showers every day to wash away their scent trail so even if Radar isn't caught up in some tree root they couldn't retrace their steps.
We've put notices up in Uki, on telegraph poles and have rung all local vets and the pound. My new and lovely yoga teacher, Julia put a notice up on the Uki Community page while Karen, Wilma's daughter, who lives at Stokers Siding has added the information to two other Facebook groups.
Every night Richard and I wake up, separately and together, hear the rain, feel the cold and think of them. This is their last photo.
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