Lost and Found

It was the end (or so we thought) of a very long day.

We were at the other house for a Spanish lesson with Maria Louisa when it began to rain.  Instead of walking the 30 minutes from the bus stop in the rain, we decided to wait a few hours until Delma could give us a ride.  When Delma arrived to pick us up, she made an ill-advised three point turn on the road in front of the house (which is under construction), and got the little car stuck in two feet of pure, sloppy, red Paraguayan mud.  The car was knee deep by the time she asked us for help.   We spent the next two hours, along with a neighbor, trying to dig the car out... to no avail.  This may come as a surprise, but they don't seem to have a "tow truck" section in the phone book...  Oh wait, they don't have phone book!   

In any case, we were covered in mud (B had mud in his unibrow), cold and exhausted when Delma broke down and called the Superior, who called some friends with a big truck and heavy cables, and we found another ride home.

Barefoot (our shoes rendered useless with sludge), we (Brammell) had to kill a tarantula in front of the front door.  We were still outside marveling at the dead thing when the other sisters arrived and opened the gate to let the car inside.  Our two dogs, Fida and Alma took off, screaming and barking, and before we knew what was happening, they were attacking a perrita who had wandered onto their territory.  

We separated them, but Fida (read:  alpha female, attempted murderess) had done some pretty serious damage.  We were relatively certain she would bleed out before too long, but the little thing wouldn't budge.  I expected her to wander off to die, but she stayed there, just outside the gate.  We had no idea what to do, and please understand, being volunteers, we have very little power in these circumstances.  B left the scene to take a shower, and when I went up, Hermana Susana was on the stairs distraught.  Her big heart wouldn't let her leave the perra outside to die in pain.

Here's the part where I tell you how smart I am.  After the porcupine incident (the second midnight trip to the vet), when we had such a good experience with Dr. Jesus, I swiped a business card on the way out, just in case we needed it.  Well, we did.  We convinced Hna. Susana to call, just to ask what to do (like a vet is going to say, "leave the dog to die.")  This resulted in a THIRD midnight trip to the vet in just two months.  

Dr. Jesus stitched her up, and all of the sudden we have a new little pet (who can't come in contact with the outside dogs).  

We first named her Dirty, Hna. Ylse's idea, because sucio ("dirty" in Spanish), sounded "dirty," to her and Dirty, in English sounded much nicer.  (There's no explaining that Dirty sounds dirty to us.)  Whew!  A few days later, I changed her name to Chiquita (short for Chiquitita, which I am told is the more accurate description of a very small dog.  Chiquita is more a medium-sized small dog.  Again, whew!)  

The next morning, she got two baths and a haircut.  I was anxious to see if she was actually a blonde under all that dirt.   We were out of town that weekend, and the Sisters just didn't know what they would possibly do with her for a day and a half.  When we came home, though, she had her own box and a rug, and an old blanket, and had left six pee spots in the office upstairs.

During the past two weeks, I tried not to think of what would become of this dog come August.  We talked and prayed about finding her a new home, but none of our friends were interested.  I maybe looked up the rules about bringing a new pet into the U.S.  As it turns out, it's not so difficult.  Living with an un-potty trained dog was getting a little easier.  The weather warmed up, so when when we weren't in the room, she could stay in the courtyard, and she didn't seem to mind that too much.  She still tried to get in the bed three times a night, and you had to get up and move her back to her box.  Otherwise, she was great.  Our amigita. 

This morning, we got a call from Hna. Susana, who had been out visiting in the neighborhood when she noticed a bunch of Chiquita look-alikes at a blue house on the next block.  She asked about them to the owner, and indeed, she had lost one of her brood a few weeks ago!  As it turns out, the dog belongs to the family of one of our students in our Wednesday tutoring class, Ilse.  We took the dog down, and she was thrilled to see her owner.  (I'm not going to lie, it was a little heartbreaking that she preferred this lady over me.)  After we said our goodbyes, and it was time to go, Chiquita took off, straight home, leaving her real mom, and us, in the dust.