The Best Of... discussion

Chaco

He limped into our yard and stood
so I could pluck acacia thorns from his foot.
Leaning into his dark Chow ruff,
I caught a reek that stirred
wholly wild along my nerves.
Our dogs retreated
whining low in their throats.

I saw his spotted tongue,
lapping his first bowl of water with us.
I put food down. He stared at me to leave,
eyes gleaming black in black,
fur concealing whites.

We called him Chaco
for the nearby canyon
and for his coat of darkest chocolate.
I never sensed his approach as I tended house
until he stopped me, holding my hip
in his mouth -- black face opaque
with a light of irony, seeing
the way my mind divides me.

Sorting objects and thoughts
seemed more pointless each day.
However quietly I moved,
there Chaco would be
mouth clasping, coolly regarding me.
When I read,
he came and nudged the book from my knees.

In dreams, I roamed the mesa
above our house, red dirt and earth's bones
unreeling beneath my snout. At my shoulder,
another whom I felt but could not see
guided me.

I told my husband
we had no place for a dog
that never smiled, tongue lolling. We placed an ad.
A man arrived, eager for a Chow
who would silently approach
and bite. I let him heave Chaco
onto the back of his truck –
the only time I saw him
look nonplussed as any dog.
Even then, he did not bark once,
but stared back at me, jounced away
over reservation road ruts.

That afternoon I moved numbly through rooms,
at moments held still – by remorse
or some other force.

Oh, Kallie . . . the regret is palpable in that. It's heartrending.

Yes. There's some flight of fancy mixed into this but I felt like I let down a wonderful creature -- that I wasn't up to the challenge.

I always find myself bonding hard with the *difficult* ones, the ones who defy the mold. Guess that's why I love the Filas so. And Terriers. And Bimmer. <3

They always bring a valuable lesson — or lessons. And love and respect that aren't easy carry real worth.

I hope Chaco was able to find his way to a home where he belonged.

I'm afraid he suffered the fate of most Chows on the rez -- tied up as a guard dog. The Navajo were much more in touch with animals in a way, and in another they were completely unsentimental because life is tough there. They rarely kept pets. A dog worked or was out. I saw dogs alone with herds stop traffic so their herd could cross. Michael and I must have picked up a couple dozen dogs turned out because they didn't serve a purpose or got sick. We usually had four or five and once had ten including five pups. But we are not good trainers so there were problems, sometimes serious problems. We were just lucky that the ones who were fear aggressive never hurt anyone.

Chaco was remarkable. He really claimed me and that was why I felt bad about him. I didn't have the dog skill to master him and that was clearly necessary, especially with a Chow. If they decide to be the boss you're in trouble.

Yeah, dogs don't get any more breaks than the people do when life is harsh. A dear friend of mine, whom I've watched and listened to growing up, from the time she was thirteen, lived in Mexico for a few years and she did a lot of rescue work there, we even helped put together transports to get some of the dogs to new homes in the U.S.


That's a misconception — all that "being the Master bullshit." (Damn you to a hell where you're the dog, Cesar Milan — you should get a look at some of the stuff that's edited out of his releases). It's not a mastery, or alpha dog bullshit (that's been discarded for so long by topnotch, REAL trainers), it's respect. And love. Science is even *proving* that dogs do have those emotions and that the same types of stimulus make the same areas of a dog's brain fire as ours.

There is also, sometimes, a mystical bond.

I will tell you truly, I am the WORST, LAZIEST trainer ever. The repetition crap . . . yeah, I don't do it at all. I talk to my dogs. Sure, I make a big deal over it when they do something I've asked (or sometimes before I've even asked), but not every time. Sometimes it's a simple "thank you." People think they are SO beautifully trained, lol!

That's all there is, really. Respect, love, and communicating — both ways. Acknowledging each other. Never be afraid again when a dog chooses you. They have a way of finding their way back to you, even if you missed it the first time. They may look different, but you know, and it's in their eyes.

You are probably right. But. We had a dog who loved Michael and me (he would come and rest his head in my lap) and hated, hated everyone else. We'd had him since a puppy because a sweet little boy wanted to take him home so much, but Buster trembled and'hid' between my feet and wouldn't respond to him. He grew very large, large enough to kill an adult human, and more afraid. When I took him for training he would growl at the trainer (an Apache man who truly loved dogs). When my sister-in-law came for a visit he cowered and growled in a corner whenever she came into the room. One day, he jumped a fence to attack our neighbor as she watered her roses but she turned the hose on him and got indoors.

Kallie wrote: "I'm afraid he suffered the fate of most Chows on the rez -- tied up as a guard dog. The Navajo were much more in touch with animals in a way, and in another they were completely unsentimental beca..."

It's hard not to be hard on yourself when you love animals- touching poem. I hear stories like this from my brother in law, who is a physician and treats people on the reservation in NM. He doesn't make much money but he finds his job rewarding.

Where is he on the rez, Karen?

Kallie wrote: "Where is he on the rez, Karen?"

I am not sure, but I know he travels a lot within the state- Gallup and Madrid? That's what my husband just told me. I don't know much about NM, but his population that he treats are mostly from reservations but now after talking to my husband it would seem that some patients have to travel a bit to see him. I feel like I should know more but we hardly ever talk and see each other every two years when he visits us. I have only been to NM once and spent Christmas Eve in Santa Fe.

I hope you visit. It's like no other place on earth, and you feel that especially if you go hiking, on the mesas but anywhere, on any of Navajoland. Crownpoint, where I lived, has a hospital and is one hour from Gallup so your bro-in-law may well have worked there when my husband and I lived in the teacherage.

I'd like to visit again, it is so different from where I am used to. My husband lived there about 40 years ago in Pecos. He wanted to live in Santa Fe but could not afford to. He is a Bostonian all the way through and could not adjust. While out there he learned how to tile floors using the Mexican ceramic tiles, worked with them and learned some Spanish.

Good poem. This has shamed me. Been neglecting Nina (our Doggo). Now that my back has almost healed again, I'm taking her out for a long one. Now.

Karen wrote: "I'd like to visit again, it is so different from where I am used to. My husband lived there about 40 years ago in Pecos. He wanted to live in Santa Fe but could not afford to. He is a Bostonian all..."

I couldn't afford to live in Santa Fe either. Sounds as though your husband had a problem of adjustment similar to mine when we tried living in Baltimore. Michael may have been able to live somewhere else on the east coast, but I'm a westerner.

Thanks, Philip, I'm glad your back is better.

Philip, I didn't know you hurt your back-glad you are better. We can't take our dog out- it's 5 degrees F , wind chill 10 or so below 0. :(

Kallie I think my husband experienced culture shock when he was in NM. He was also into punk rock surrounded by hippies, and everyone had out houses. His trailer had a BR and people would come over all the time, lol.

Karen wrote: We can't take our dog out- it's 5 degrees F , wind chill 10 or so below 0. :(

I didn't realise. When it gets that cold here for long, they close the schools. We are softies in this part of Turkey.

Nina wasted half her walk cracking a bit of bone she found. Couldn't get it out of her mouth! She'll probably vomit her dinner now.

Karen wrote: "Kallie I think my husband experienced culture shock when he was in NM. He was also into punk rock surrounded by hippies, and everyone had out houses. His trailer had a BR and people would come over all the time, lol. ..."

HaHa. Sounds like Taos (or Marin County CA) in the 70s.

Kallie wrote: "HaHa. Sounds like Taos (or Marin County CA) in the 70s"

The hippies there were all my brother in law's friends, when they would go over to my husbands trailer he would eat raw hotdogs infront of them to scare them away, he was a brat but I think it's funny.

It is. And there were brat hippies, too.

Kallie wrote: "It is. And there were brat hippies, too."

Oh yes, there were!

I think I was more of a yappy.

"Get buzzed.., and taaaaaaaawwwwwwwkkk about it."