Rescue is (or should be) such a genuine act – and feeling. It actually makes you feel like a rock star – no plans, no schedule, no conformity of any kind. One moment you are in your car driving somewhere, where people are waiting, a table has been set or a wedding is about to take place, and the next moment you simply let life take you wherever she (life is a woman) has decided to.
So today, I was a rock star for a while- I felt like one anyway. Marcia was here for a few days (Sofi‘s amazing mum) – some people’s holidays are about visiting shelters not sunbathing on the beach, and her “animal welfare tourism” ended with a rescue. What can be more awesome than that?
We were on the way to Save a Greek Stray shelter – it’s where her Sofi came from. I took the wrong turn and when I realized and tried to do a u-turn, we saw him. Living in Greece and bumping into stray dogs in every corner, hardens you to the point where you become too thick skinned to genuinely care – so if it were up to me, I probably wouldn’t have even seen the dog.
But Marcia comes from a country where stray dogs are simply…not there, so he sight is clearer and her heart more pure. And she saw him. My first reaction to her “Oh, look! There’s a dog!” was an abrupt “Yeah, they are everywhere”. But this particular one seemed too lost and too scared to be ignored.
She got out of the car to “feed him”. Feeding him a couple of treats was a challenge, since once she saw her, he started walking towards the opposite direction. Since he was walking between the highway and a busy street, the chances of him being too scared from the chase, and running off to the street were too high, so I got out of the car too.
And then the “feeding him” effort became a “let’s gain his trust” challenge, and once you go down that road, there’s no turning back. The little one started wagging his tail and reluctantly getting the treats from Marcia’s hand, and it was only then when I realized that we were about to rescue a dog that a few minutes later would have been ran over by a car.
After a while, he gave up and we were able to catch him. Marcia carried him to the car and he sat silently on her lap while we drove to the shelter, not making a sound. He just stood there, immobile, probably feeling safe for the first time in days or weeks, and knowing how to deal with that feeling.
So, this is Basu, and his new life began today, because I took a wrong turn, and because Marcia was in the car with me. It’s all in black and white because I had my camera set in black and white and the sun was shining so bright today, that I could barely see anything, so I didn’t realize. Basu is definitely sick, and he is definitely in good hands.
*Marcia cried the whole time, I didn’t. I am not going back to Holland, you know… I am staying here, and tears are something I can’t afford, none of us here in Greece can.