Wednesday, November 19, 2014

A Constant Warning

Kory has lived with us for just over a year now.
When we picked her up at the Boise airport in early November of last year, one of the first things that really struck me about her was that she was very thin.
We had been told that she had been depressed at the shelter in Florida, and we knew that after being in the shelter for a number of months she had finally been adopted by another family.
They took home.  She immediately jumped their six foot fence.  They immediately loaded her back into the truck and took her back to the shelter.
And that is when she stopped eating.
When LC and I made the commitment to take Kory, and a friend down in Tampa Bay bailed her out of doggy prison, and then a week later put her on a plane and flew her to Boise, LC and I were not sure what to expect from a dog that had lead such a dysfunctional and stressful life.
I crouched in the cold cargo bay at the airport trying to keep this strange dog inside the pet carrier while LC attached a leash to her collar.
When she finally stepped out of the cage she approached a kneeling LC, looked at him and then licked his nose.
At that point we knew that everything was going to be OK
When Kory arrived at our house she weighed 52 pounds.
We took her to the vet yesterday so that she could get her annual shots.
She now weighs 64 pounds.
Previous blog post about Jamie - the beautiful girl that I had for 13 years:

And a previous post about how we came to have Kory:
There is an elderly couple that lives in town.
They only spend about six months each year in Atomic City, and spend the other six months down in Arizona.
I met the man only a couple of months after we moved to AC.
He seemed to be friendly enough.  
He talked a LOT and we exchanged friendly banter a few times, and shortly after that he was gone for the winter.
I did not meet the woman until they both returned in April from their snowbird journey down south.
The woman and I immediately liked each other, and for the next six months I learned to greatly enjoy her company.
Often I would pass by her home while walking with Kory, and if she was working in the yard she would stop and we would sit on her porch talking and sometimes gossiping for a few minutes.
She is a tiny woman - barely five feet tall.  
75 years old and filled with dry humor, intelligence, fire, spit and vinegar.
As LC and I got to know these two through the spring, summer and early fall of this year, we realized that we liked this elderly couple very much.
They spoke plainly.  Had a sense of humor.  Would go out of their way to help you in any way that they could.  They had good hearts.  We liked them very much.
The man had fought through cancer and chemotherapy over a year ago, and had come out the other side as a strong and healthy man.
They are again wintering in Arizona and the other day I talked to the old woman on the phone.
The cancer has returned.
It is inoperable.
He has been given a year to live.
This tiny little woman is very strong.  There was not much to say other than to make an offer to help in any way that we might be able to help.
They have loving family and close friends spread from Oregon to Arizona, but in the spring they will come back to their home in Atomic City.
A home that they were trying to sell so that they could move permanently to Arizona.
They have friends here too.  Us.  Another couple that are closer and that have known them longer.
Now I don't know what their plans are, but we will help in any way that we can although I am not sure just how much I am capable of giving.
Not sure how much I have to give.  Or how much I can afford to give.
But we'll do whatever we can because they are good and decent people who have been good and decent to us, as we have been to them in return.
I wish this hadn't happened....................
Once the freezing cold winds had calmed, and once the snows had stopped falling, and once the grey sky had cleared, Kory and I were greeted with a very cold and amazingly beautiful day.
Desperate to be outside, we walked through town, picked up a trail on BLM land, and turned onto another trail that I knew would eventually circle us back towards the house.
The pictures speak for themselves.
There are many things that stand out to me - how extraordinarily beautiful this desert place looks when it is covered with snow, how much bigger the mountains and buttes look in the winter, and the sheer number of coyote tracks in the snow.
The picture above was taken inside the city limits.
The tracks to the left of my pup are coyote tracks.
They are everywhere  - on every street in town, in every yard that is not fenced, on every trail, crossing through every section of BLM land.
I am certain that coyotes roam our town (and the land surrounding our tiny community) all year long.
But it is both disconcerting and a stark reality check to see so many tracks in so many places ...................
Underneath my imagination there didn't seem to be anything solid except for the space where I shoved my pain and sadness. Besides that, there were only twisted steel threads of axiety, woven through my body and brain, wired into me like a constant warning. Watch out, stay still, move away, stay silent, fight back, run and hide. Even when I was dreaming, but more so when I was awake, there was the constant fear of being caught off-guard, or by the wrong person at the wrong time............Jane Devin 

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