A Short (True) Story

Because I’m in a time crunch.

Mieze is on the left, Baby Stella on the right.

This year, my daughter won’t be able to spend Christmas with me because she doesn’t have enough vacation days left. She lives near Boston, and I live in the middle of nowhere in northern New Mexico. She’d get only four days off from work, and that’s not really worth the long travel time and all the hassle with airports and airplanes. So, we decided that I would visit her at the beginning of December, which also turned out to be way cheaper – tickets were less than half of what one would pay around Christmas. 

A dear friend has kindly agreed to stay at my house while I’m away and give my three doggies all the love, attention, and nourishment they need; plus, she’ll water all my plants. I’m so grateful; I couldn’t wish for a better caretaker. 

I don’t travel often any more, and even a one-week trip is highly stressful; I bet it’s a sign of age that I get so frazzled –  I worry that I’ll forget something; I’m afraid that the house isn’t squeaky clean; I fuss about what clothes to bring so that I won’t be too hot/cold. Embarrassingly silly, I know, but I can’t shut it off.

That’s why I couldn’t focus on research for the next article. Instead, I’ll share about two of my dogs, Mieze and Stella. Both were abandoned as little puppies when I found them,  barely eight weeks old. First I took Mieze in;  somebody told me that she was a “Yellow Black-mouthed Cur” – yes, that’s indeed some kind of breed (not that I care). They’re used in the Southern United States for hunting and are known for “treeing” – they chase animals such as bears and raccoons up a tree and keep them there until the hunter comes. My Mieze thought that was silly, and climbing up a tree herself would be much more fun.

Mieze way up in a big old cottonwood tree, about six months old.

Mieze was about four years old when I found tiny baby Stella, pitifully crying by the side of the road where  she was left to fend for herself or to die. Mieze turned motherly right away  and made sure Stella got all the nurturing a human Mom couldn’t give. 

Once Stella was grown up, the two became inseparable companions – sisters and friends. They would play together and entertain each other, and they loved me of course, but I was more in the background.

Mieze liked to swimm, but Steel would only get her feet wet.

And here is my favorite Stella-story:

When I moved to Coyote, Mieze and Stella always ran outside first thing in the morning. They’d be gone, exploring the wide open  spaces all around here, but by 11 am they’d usually show up again, being hungry and thirsty. One morning Stella showed up but there was no Mieze. I called several times, she wouldn’t show up. When it was around noon and she still was nowhere in sight, I was worried and decided to go and look for her. Stella came with me, and I told her: “Where is Mieze? Go find Mieze!” And sure enough, she ran ahead and then stopped and looked back, wanting to be certain that I’d follow her. 

Below the house is a big meadow with a creek at the other end, Cottonwood and Pinyon trees, lots of wild empty space. That’s where I would have gone to look for Mieze. But no, Stella ran up the driveway, crossed the street, and kept on going on a dirt road that leads to the local cemetery. Always turning around and making sure that I was right behind her. And then suddenly she stopped and sat down, I had no idea why.

There were some thickets and lots of weeds, but no Mieze. Maybe Stella was just aimlessly running around, and now she had enough? What was I thinking… how could she possibly know that I was desperately looking for Mieze? For a second, I seriously doubted her, but I was wrong! When I got closer to where she was sitting, I noticed that a culvert ran underneath the dirt road, part of  an old irrigation ditch. Weeds and shrubs grew alongside the road, mostly hiding the culvert, but then I saw something like a movement among the bushes -- a squirrel maybe? No -- a foot  -- Mieze’s foot! I couldn’t believe it! Quickly I was down on my knees to take a look, and there was Mieze -- stuck in the dirt-filled culvert! She must have followed some wild animal, but then the dirt inside the culvert got too high -- and she couldn’t go forward, and she couldn’t go back. 

I used my hands to quickly shovel out some of the dirt underneath her and around her, and then I gently grabbed her by the hips and pulled her out! She shook herself a little but seemed quite unfazed by the situation. To this day I’m not sure whether she realized that she was in grave danger, but I’m convinced that Stella saved Mieze’s life. I would never have heard any barks or cries for help, and I don’t think Mieze would have been able to push herself backwards, out of the hole. That’s how smart Stella was.

Both of these sweet girls aren’t here any more, not their bodies at least. Their souls and spirits live on in the hearts of those who knew and loved them. We will always miss them.

Both were great climbers, but they also liked to snuggle on the couch.