ONE LESS BEAGLE - PT 2

Starry wasn't everyone's idea of a great dog. A couple of my friends flat-out never liked her. I understood why, she was pretty disconnected, paying only as much attention to people as absolutely necessary to decide whether or not they were good for food.

And no, it wasn't an endearing trait. By and large, she had no time for little niceties. She was a very focused, agenda-driven animal, and people looking for warmth or gratitude were naturally disappointed.

Some of us live life with our head in the stars. Starry preferred hers in a bag.

Or under wraps. Or whenever possible, in bed.

I'll never know what Starry's life had been before Cascade Beagle Rescue found her wandering the streets of Vancouver, WA. I'll lay odds she didn't get enough to eat and was likely ignored. That is, until she was about 7 yrs old, and found home.

No one can be privy to another's intimate relationships. Few witnessed what my little family and I shared. Zoe Mae was the force of nature with her uncanny designs on humanity. Lulah was the cat non-cat people "got"; a purring little loaf of love.

Starry, however, was all about creature comforts. My job was to sweeten her life. She paid me back with her delight in my company, her appetite for adventure and her stick-to-it-ness in bed. She taught me a great deal about determination and perseverance, and the power of the will to live.

Starry Blue was the little engine that could. And did she ever.

ONE LESS BEAGLE TO LOVE - PT 1

I heard the news today. Oh boy.

My beloved beagle Starry has died.

Starlet Blue Levine @1998-2011

SO IF HE'S SUCH A GOOD DOG.....

In an earlier post, someone asked about the dog we have for adoption, Filipo.

An exuberant blur! The photo sure proves it. And what a soulful face. But how, we'd like to know, did he last so long in a refuge?

I used to think the same thing when I volunteered at the local shelter in Portland, OR. Why hasn't this sweet, smart, handsome, fill-in-the-blank animal been adopted yet? The answer was always a variation on a theme: Too big, too shy, too aggressive, too ugly, or as if often the case, black. (The color issue is so ubiquitous, it's now a widely-recognized syndrome).

At least if an animal's still in the shelter and her spirits are high, however long its takes, she's still got a chance. The flip side is the dog who can't take the confinement and self-destructs. High on that list is a dog with border collie in its blood, a dog like our Filipo.

Ironically, the reason Filipo stayed sane and the reason he went unadopted for so long comes down to the same thing: the refuge.

ARCA, based here in Cuenca, is one of Ecuador's biggest shelters. With upwards of 150 dogs at its rural facility plus another 40 in its downtown clinic, ARCA may well be the largest rescue in the country. Filipo is an ARCA dog, rescued by a good samaritan who found the struggling puppy in the street, one of its back legs unuseable, shattered by a car.

ARCA's lead veterinarian, Cristina Bernardi, a creature too wonderful to be true, pinned young Filipo's leg together and kept him in the clinic until he was ready for life in the rough'n'tumble refuge. Out there, dogs are kept in long metal sheds that have been divided into concrete-floored rooms. Each room houses anywhere from 1 to 4 dogs, whose noses are usually up pressed against the bars to take in the country air.

The air outside the bars is pretty good, too.

So that's where Filipo landed, smack in the middle of a noisy, active and safe facility with dogs of all shapes, sizes and ages. Being a puppy, he was grouped with other youngsters, and given ample romping room, shelter and food.

That's why this whirlwind of a collie mix survived 10 months in a shelter. He was out playing several hours a day. Life in the country suited him, however limited his play time with humans.

But living in the country in a hard-to-find place a long way from the city was exactly why no one ever took him home. People rarely visit the refuge; it's chaotic and crazy-making, a press of unruly, excited animals barking and jumping for attention. Appearances are not what matters when you're trying to rescue as many dogs as possible. As a result, the refuge is simply not a visitor-friendly place.

ARCA is its own story, a complicated one. Filipo's is pretty straightforward: A once-invisible animal is given the opportunity to stand out and shine.

The boy's keeping the faith that he's almost there, one step closer, to the simplest of places yet so hard to find: a true home.

ECUADOR DOG SHOWS UP IN PANTS

Filipo likes to be close when the sun rises. We're not talking snuggling. We're talking, "You will feel my stare, you will hear me sigh, you will get up. GET UP!"

Since I'm training him for whoever his enviable human will be, I've set some boundaries with Filipo long crossed by my own wily beast, Zoe Mae. The big ticket item is the bed: Zoe's in it, Filipo's not. I'm leaving it to his human to make that call.

So Filipo's M.O. is this: He stands at the head of the bed, puts his chin on the edge of the mattress, and focuses. Hard. He is pure intention. Ignoring him is a bad idea if the purpose of ignoring him is to go back to sleep. It ain't gonna happen. Seconds after he starts in, Zoe Mae, with her big body and hairy head, inches up to my face eschewing all boundaries and just like that I'm double-teamed out of bed and herded into the kitchen. FEED ME.

It's all sadly predictable. But at least it's over quickly. Minutes later I'm back in bed for a half-hour nap. Then, when I'm ready for the world, I sit up as quietly as I can in the hopes of going undetected, hoping to slip into my clothes and tie my shoes unmolested.

But not this morning.

And that's how it happened. Filipo, who again likes to be close once I'm up for good, well, the cad snuck up behind me as I put my left leg into my Turkish salvar and shazam! squirmed up into the right leg, head first, showing up in my pants.

Salvars are really wide.

FOR ADOPTION: FILIPO!

I've never lived with an affectionate dog before. Could be because I tend to favor hounds. (Chill out, hound people. I'm entitled). My beagle experiences have pretty much put me in my place. I know which of us is the one to be adored.

And I really don't mind. I love beagles, and take them as they come. My beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback, Lucy Mae, wasn't affectionate either. Loyal and devoted, yes; but not into public displays of affection.

(I'll refrain from talking about my sidekick Zoe Mae. That'd be like airing family laundry).

But now, NOW, right here at the Heart of Barkness, we have Filipo and cannot believe what it's liked to be around an unabashedly affectionate dog.

After almost a year in a local refuge, a long time for an animal barely 18 mos old, Filipo is a love sponge. He adores physical proximity - just ups and walks between our legs! - and swoons when stroked under his chin. The slightest smile and he's thumping his tail; the boy's eyes get positively starry when asked to sit for a treat.

Filipo's also a total hoot, a kid bursting with energy. When he's outside, he's like a cartoon character, an exuberant blur.

We haven't seen him around cats, but he loves other dogs. He is a disciplinarian around cows. He's wary of strangers and very protective of his home, and has some learning ahead of him. He worries. In that way, he's quite the contrast to Lucy Mae, the chilled-out Ridgeback, who wouldn't even lift her head when people walked into the house. NOT a worrier.

We love having Filipo here at the Barkness Ranch. And we can't wait to see who he blossoms into when he settles in with his lifelong companion.

Could it be you?

AND AWAY WE GO

Greetings! If you love dogs, this is the place to be. At least that's what I tell myself as I sit here on the side of a mountain, the sole proprietor of a dog adoption agency and a late-in-life dream.

My dream has four legs, long blonde hair and a bushy tail. It's a blur of energy and speed. It curls into laps, sings for its supper, bows, barks and smiles. It was lost, now is found, and doesn't forget it. It's a fool for love.

It also has a name: FILIPO!

Filipo is the reason I've come to Ecuador. He and the countless other wonderful canines who are waiting for their big break.

Which pretty much sums up our mission here at The Heart of Barkness:

to improve the life of Ecuador's often invisible animals by giving them the opportunity to stand out and shine.

At the Heart of Barkness, we teach dogs the art of family living. They become part of our home. Then we find them a person of their own.

Filipo is our first graduate. We couldn't be prouder.

His story, tomorrow.

WE'RE UNDER CONSTRUCTION!

(Yeah, you've heard it before. But we're almost there. Honest.)