Escapes (and perceptions)

Since I moved to this town, I foster dogs. I think it was the 6th? 7th? foster that I ended up keeping. She had little/no hair due to various skin illness issues, had a bit of her ear chipped, and was terrified of everything. In the 3 years I've had her, she's grown her fur, is a tiny wee killer (two skunks, numerous small rodents, a possum, an attack on a deer, half a cat, many squirrels), and is massively curious about everything. The shelter listed her as a German Shepherd but there's no sense of "oh, hey, I quite like my human" in her. None. Humans exist to feed her and take her for walks/runs. She is also an escape artist/runner. I live in a house with no fenced yard and so I try take her on walks or put her on a long leash so she can run about in the big park in my back yard. As I am mostly sleepy, generally in my own world, type person and Dog is always "Kill NOW. What can I kill?", there's many times she's run off/escaped.

Today, I think was Dog's most epic escape (so far) (there's time) (my heart might not take more inventive escapes well). Taking advantage of slip in the ice/snow, she did a runner. I went around calling her name. No noise. No sound. Nothing. After scouring pretty much the whole neighborhood, I heard a whimper from near the House of Horror*. Turns out Dog had gone underneath HoH and got stuck. Of course, this didn't prevent her from trying to sniff/explore/etc so we ended up in a situation where Dog was fairly deep underneath this falling down/half fallen down house, it was getting dark and I knew the folks around there wouldn't do well to having some random woman wandering around in their territory.

So, of course, I did the sensible thing. I went home, got my mobile and rang the Fire department to ask for help.

Hahah-no! I crawled under the HoH, expecting any moment the house to fall down OR someone to shoot us, grabbed Dog, took her off her stupid leash and then, grabbing a wriggling Dog like a rugby ball, got us out of there. I walked almost a mile with 35lb Dog in hand. For much of this time, Dog was convinced she had to escape NOW and was wriggling like an eel.

We got home safe, I poured myself a stiff drink (whiskey. The good stuff) and I thought about the incident. If this were New Zealand or Nepal, I'd have tried to ask for help from one of the people whose houses were near the House of Horror. I'd have gone and knocked on their doors. But since this was Southwestern USA, I didn't. Not only didn't I go knock on neighbor's doors, but all the stories we read about strangers shot in garages, driveways, and so on came to mind. The whole time I was crawling under a falling-down house, I wasn't as much worried the house would fall on me or that I'd get a scrape (and probably end up with Tetanus--could still happen!) but that someone would notice the noise and start shooting. I was terrified to the extent that my arms and legs were trembling. This fear is, of course, more about me than about how the people here "really are". I"m sure the folks here would have helped too (maybe) but I didn't even feel I could ask them. There's a different kind of self-making when I am in SWVA than when I am in Nepal or elsewhere.

*House of Horror is a falling down house that exists at the end of my lane. Around it are abandoned/occupied trailers, a campervan, and various pickup trucks. The one time I was near there, a bearded gent came out and told me to "keep your daw-ug away from here" (this was in Year 2 and the dog was Harold, an adorable scamp of a thing) and I've never been back/near since.

Living in rural SW Virginia, part I: Get a dog.

It seems like I start off with good intentions of writing but am so sick of writing in general/for "work", that I can't be fussed to come on here and write again. Especially about work/"serious" stuff. Well, the semester's started. I'm teaching a class on International Relations Theory (which has had a drop off of students after the first class so it *might* end up being more of a seminar. This means I will most likely rework my current syllabus, which is (was) geared for a class of 40 or so students). I'm also teaching a class on Global Security. It should be...interesting. I'll write a bit about how they go as we proceed, more to record the experience for FutureMe! in case it's useful. This is unlikely to be of much help/use to yous, I feel but, ah well.

Since I'm horribly late on everything (book proofs due in two weeks; edited book to be edited; two papers to write for the yearly International Studies conference--in less than a month's time!; classes to be prepared for, etc etc), I'll give you a snippet from life here. Dog and I headed out of town yesterday (we are having terrible weather--ice, rain, icy rain) and ended up in a small town nearby. This was at one of those gas stations/shops which have *everything*. I love those shops.

"Miss, you should really lock your car when you park it. People can just get in and drive off"
"I need to leave the window open"
"We....ll (in the way that they say it here. With at least four syllables), if you've got money to throw around. But, don't say I didn't warn you" (this was a complete stranger btw)*
"Yeah, I'll risk it"
"All right then...he good at hunting?" ("he" = Dog. I've not acquired a human hunter whom I leave in the back seat of my car. Though that sounds surprisingly good)
"Yeah, all right. I don't take her hunting"
"One of those liberals?"
"I don't think the dog cares much about politics"
(laughs) "How about you?"
"I don't vote"
"Yeah, not much in it these days" (long discussion of the evils of govt)

These types of interactions happen *all* the time here. Two things: a) Dog is a diplomat for when we wander into small shops/towns in the area. People who would never talk to me, I feel, are very chatty once they see Dog; and b) "I don't vote" seems to mean "you agree with my views that the govt is evil"

You can see Dog here: 

As you can see, Dog is a bit of a mix. There's a group of veterinary students who run an organization that pulls dogs (and cats) from high kill shelters in the area and places them in foster homes. I am one of the foster homes and, before Dog, I had 4 other fosters. The day we went to get Dog, we had our eyes on a boxer mix.** As with most rescues, the group tries to pick out dogs that are adoptable. We got to the pound and there was this ridiculous creature that only had patches of hair and had been at the pound for almost a year. We were told she was skittish, afraid of most things and generally "sweet but no one wants her". Well, after convincing the organization's person (who was superb!), I ended up with Dog as a foster. She was adopted out twice (from me). One time, she was brought back overnight. The other time, she lasted a week before the lady who had adopted her brought her back. 

In the meantime, I went home for summer, came back and Dog was still with the organization. Readers, you know where this story is going. Six months after I first got her from the shelter, I decided to keep her. After long-term medication, she's grown hair (as you can see) and has a (very!) high prey drive and so can't be off leash (ever!). She's not the easiest of dogs as her general mode when outside is "KILL ALL THE THINGS!!!"

The highlight of her life is probably the time there was a deer in my back park (pictured above) and Dog rushed off and grabbed said deer (about twice her size) by the leg. Got kicked. This happened: 

Me: Hello, my dog just bit a deer and got kicked. She's staggering a bit but seems ok.
Vet hospital: How big is your dog?
Me: 30lbs
Vet hospital: (silence): can you say that again? 
Me: 30 lbs
VH: and she went after a deer?
Me: Yes
VH: (laughter) If she's walking, she'll be all right. Just keep an eye on her. 

It all ended up ok but, in the time I've had her, Dog's run off heaps of times (mostly when I'm half asleep/not hanging on to the lead with all my strength when she spots a squirrel), made it to DC and back with me this past summer (she was a star in our street in DC, where I lived for 2 months) and tends to hoover up any/every-thing we find on the streets when we walk. During winter, we are in the town more (the back park is dark and vaguely creepy by 4pm) and Dog generally hates other dogs if they venture too close to us. 

In short, I think I'd have been heaps more productive (maybe have had Book 3 out by now?) without Dog but, hey, if you plan to move from a city to a tiny town where you know no one, a dog is great. 


* I bought my car for $1200 off a Canadian postdoc who was heading off to Japan, with his wife. It's a 2000 Ford Thingy and is built like a tank. As I'm a fairly new driver (more on this in a later post), it's probably not the best car for me but, hey, it works and I don't drive much. 

**The boxer also got saved another time. Not all dogs in this area are as lucky.