March 3, 2020
Walking to the bus this morning was a typical excursion with Scrappy and Scott tearing off to chase a truck as we rounded the first corner up the hill. Not long after that I heard the yipe yipe yipe indicating Scott had been hit. He was out of my site when it happened, so as with Chiripa when she was hit last year, I did not know how bad it was. I was walking up the steepest part of the hill and not able to go very fast, but was trying to reach him quickly.
I found Scott lying on the brush in the ditch, still crying in pain, unable to get up. When Chiripa was injured, I had felt it was probably not her fault, she doesn’t chase vehicles. When I reached her where she lay, I was very emotional, very worried she would die, her injuries were severe. When I saw Scott, I crouched down held his still puppy face in my hands and looked deep into his eyes. I watched them change as he seemed to realize how many times I got angry at him for chasing vehicles, telling him it would kill him one day. What I saw in his eyes, really is not something I can describe in words, we just had this moment of silent understanding pass between us. Then I told him what he did was stupid and his voice in my head let me know he realized this. I was angry with him for putting himself in harms way knowing it had probably just cost him his life.
I picked him up carefully, not knowing how serious his injuries were and began the difficult walk back to the hostel. Walking down the mountain roads are difficult too, the ground uneven from all the rain and Scott is surprisingly heavy for his body size. I could not stay home with him as I had to be in Otavalo that morning, but he was now in a place where someone could help him in my absence. I made sure he was as comfortable as I could, although there was not much I could really do for him. Once more I held his face in my hands letting him know I loved him and would be back as soon as I could, that he needed to just rest. I know it was not easy for him to watch me go, nor was it easy for me to leave, something I face each time I leave Mali behind.
I missed my bus, so there was time to think while I waited, about all the times I was frustrated with Scott for his crazy behaviour. In his mind, to me it seemed like a game, when he would tear off after a motorcycle or truck. I got the impression he thinks of himself as being more wolf than what he really is, a short legged cross between a beagle and golden retriever. His spirit has always been much bigger, something I have witnessed for his entire life, which began just 2 months before my arrival here. I was not fooled by his beautiful face, but loved him anyway. I still do – he knows that, I saw the recognition in his eyes yesterday.
As I watched the world go by from my seat on the bus, I found myself thinking about all the people and animals that have come and gone in my life. there is a gift from each relationship, although sometimes we don’t see it at the time. Maybe we see it, but can’t accept or process the importance until later, when our emotions settle.
I could see how lately the people I meet are like stepping stones, with me jumping from one to the next, as they lead me to where I am supposed to go. This person leads to this person, that person leads to another and so on as I keep going, my path lit up by the connection for however long it is important. Sometimes it’s difficult not to be angry at the person who you suddenly find yourself at odds with, but I seem to take comfort in the idea they were not meant to be a long term acquaintance. Is it wrong to think this way? I am not sure, but it does feel wrong to try to hang onto a relationship that no longer feels right.
It seems strange to think of Scott not being at my door to greet me in the morning, but when I looked into his eyes, feeling the strange calmness within myself as well as emanating from him, I have to accept this is what I must expect – a life without my crazy, beautiful friend Scott, Mali’s first playmate and friend.
It has been 2 days since the accident and I cannot get Scott to eat anything and I think he has stopped drinking. When I check on him, it is strange to find home sitting there looking into the distance as if he is absorbing every detail of his home. His face aged now, resembling that of an old man sitting in his rocking chair on the porch, accepting his time is coming to an end.
Today when I left for my run, he was resting under the bamboo beside my cabin. When I got back, I checked on him, but found he was not there to check on. I looked everywhere, but could not find him. I did another round a few hours later and at last saw him under a banana tree quite a bit further from my home than I expected. He was laying there quietly, making no effort to to move and as I watched him, I felt he chose his resting spot with care. Had he not moved his face at the exact time I looked in his direction, I would not have seen him.
When Chiripa had her accident, she also hid from me the first night, but when I brought her back, she stayed, not leaving until she was better. I have brought Scott back several times now, wishing to keep an eye on him, but today rather than staying close to home as he did yesterday, he has begun to wander further away. I checked on him not long ago, thinking I should bring him back for the night, but he has moved again and I could not find him.
From puppy to wise old man in the blink of an eye. I still hope that he will be at my door in the morning when I step outside, but I think he does not want me to find him if he dies and I wonder when it was he became so thoughtful and wise. I must say that it happened in the moment I found him on the side of the road and held his beautiful little face in my hands.
Once again I find myself facing the possibility of saying goodbye to a friend and I will have to contemplate the value of the time I had with him.