See Ya Later Little Lady

We found Nabie and her sister, Fhia, in the bushes on the entrance road to our farm when they were about 6 weeks old. The story was so memorable that we made it into a blog post: "The Tale of Two Sisters", September 2021. That was a few years ago and life has changed since then. It’s time to come clean about the subsequent years.

I’ll never forget seeing Nabie and Fhia the first time. To all those who see all life as sacred, honestly I was not feeling that about these two creatures. Instead, I saw them as two pathetically ugly, cast-off puppies that had gotten dumped on our Costa Rican property by irresponsible people. I had zero interest or empathy with either of them, and only wanted to give them away as fast as possible.

But the young people volunteering with us didn't want to hear about my plans. Instead, Flora, Lidio and Marta swept up the puppies without hesitation and began bathing, de-fleaing, feeding and loving them, determined to civilize these two little creatures.  For the next several months, those puppies got personalized TLC day and night.  It was beautiful to watch.

A couple of weeks after all the volunteers and Nabie’s sister left our property, it began sinking in that we actually liked Nabie . . . and just maybe she was becoming our own personal dog.

 

We began noticing that she was quite the precious girl, full of a positive attitude overlapped by cleverness. Wherever I'd go, she'd go, which on a 26 acre property is ideal. I never felt alone.

I wasn’t the only who became endeared with her. The other two dogs came to love and appreciate her, as she slowly worked her way into their hearts. She grew into being a lively jokester, ready to be clever or cute or just plan adorable. When it came to sheep management, she knew what to do and how to do it in order to herd them back into their pasture when they escaped – and she never bothered the chickens. Really, she was just a good girl with a loving heart who was always ready to put her arms around my chest and bury her face under my arm or rest her cheek on my chest.

 

 

 

So one Sunday afternoon 3½ years after we found her in the bushes, Nabie ran off into the jungle alone and didn’t return. When it began to get dark, I got worried and went to look for her, calling her name as I circled the property on foot. As it was getting darker and I had no light, I was headed back to the house when I noticed her laying in the workshop nearby. 

Positioned up on her elbows, her head was up and she appeared alert although she didn't respond to my calls.  When I approached, I discovered she was laying in a large pool of blood. Stunned, speechless, I couldn't figure out what had happened and what to do.  Then I noticed a total of 7 similar large pools of blood in the workshop. And there she lay, looking alert and adorable. 

I began calling any and every veterinarian in town – and basically none of them answered -- it after 5pm on a Sunday. Even the vet that advertises doing emergency care – who occasionally saves our other dog, Baru, didn’t answer the phone.  

By this time Jeff found us in the workshop where I explained what I knew of the situation. Nabie didn’t appear to have any injuries yet one of her paws dripped blood relentlessly. Jeff carried her home and put her in her bed, still alert. I couldn’t imagine how she could still be alive having lost so much blood.  

No vets were available. We couldn’t see where she was bleeding from. There was no evidence as to what had happened. Jeff and I just looked at each other calmly, blankly, saying, Is this it? Is all we can do is stand here and watch our girl die? This is NOT acceptable – and yet there’s nothing else we can do. Nothing.  Talk about feeling powerless!

I called a neighbor-friend hoping for a possible after hours vet referral, recalling that he had recently needed one for a critical animal situation. When I eventually located the vet, he was on his way home for the night but he turned his car around and came directly to our place. That’s the good news.  

The sad news was that after examining Nabie, the only thing he found visibly wrong with her was a barely visible pinhole between two of her toes which is where all of the blood was coming from. The crusher was that he didn’t have any snake anti-venom with him. All he could do was inject the area with Vitamin K to try to stop the bleeding and to pressure wrap her paw. He said that he hoped her blood would coagulate and that in the morning she would be ready to feel alive again.  

In Costa Rica there are different types of vipers, all poisonous, a few of which we sometimes see on our property. Their bites are known to kill chickens, cattle, horses, people and yes, dogs. The vet explained that viper venom contains an anti-coagulating agent, which can prevent its victim from being able to stop the bleeding.  

Nabie couldn’t eat or drink; she couldn't walk and soon couldn't move. By midnight the following night she died in my arms.  

For months I cried about losing her. I couldn’t bring myself to write the story of what had happened. Jeff felt a dislodged without her. The other dogs and the cats were visibly shaken by her absence. We haven’t adopted another dog to replace her although we tried, only to realize that she couldn’t be replaced. If you feel like there’s still a hole where a dog used to be, you’re right: there's a big hole. 

When all this drama was unfolding on the day Nabie was hurt, I noticed a What’s App message from the German couple that had adopted Fhia, Nabie’s sister. Their message with pleasant greetings and pictures of Fhia in Germany, was sent at 3pm on the same Sunday that Nabie, at 3pm, disappeared into the jungle. 

A few days later I collected the composure to respond to them, telling them that we had lost Nabie.  Shocked, they sent their teary condolences then they messaged Flora, the Argentinian volunteer who had rescued  Nabie as a puppy.  In short order Flora, messaged us from Spain with her sincere condolences. Next Lidio, her friend who co-rescued the pups, quickly wrote from Italy sharing his sincere sympathies. 

I feel that the six of us were a unified family, held together by the experience and the love of two cast off mutts – two miserable, unloved, starving mongrels. Each one of us had grown in the process of loving and caring for these creatures, bringing them back to life and into truly fulfilling lives. These pups provided us all with the opportunity to open our hearts in the give-and-take of supporting others.

The family, with Jeff holding the camera. Nabie is on the right.

 

Regretfully Nabie decided to leave after being with us for only 3½ years. She came, she loved, and she left. I thank her for every moment she shared with me, for helping me to grow beyond my prejudice about her, for supporting me opening my heart to her. Maybe she’s an angel that came to earth with a mission to help me soften my heart. Maybe she’s back being a guardian angel now. Maybe so.

See ya later little lady.  You gave it a great run.  Thanks.

Also, our book, Leaving Behind Normalcy, is available on Amazon in hard copy and as an E-book.  

For a different perspective on becoming an expat, I recommend checking it out.