Sierra: A Crime of Abandonment

I returned to the ranch from several trips down to the border over the past three weeks where I witnessed the destruction of my country at the hands of illegal aliens that ignore our borders, murder our citizens and shoot our police. Bad as this may be, it is aided and abetted by the very government that is supposed to protect its citizens and defend its borders. This state of affairs is overseen by a bull dyke with the grace and femininity of a rogue buffalo, who looks into the camera and declares to the American public that the border has never been more secure.

I was furious as I struggled home through a heavy snowstorm. Crossing the passes at 8000 feet of elevation, I would not have made it without the four wheel drive so necessary in this rough country. Exhausted, I slept twelve hours through and woke to nearly six inches of new snow. The corrals were a muddy, slushy mess, so I decided to accompany Lisa, the mistress of the ranch, to Show Low to get supplies. Another 250 mile drive was not what I wanted but there was nothing to do in the snow and mud so we started out.

The cut on US 60 east of Springerville, AZ

Just east of Springerville, Arizona on US 60 at mile marker 394.6, the highway passes through a deep, rocky cut. Hunched against the rocks on the north side was an emaciated female Doberman.

Continuing on, I topped out on the broad mesa and found a place to safely turn around. Returning to where the dog was last seen, she had moved to the south side of the highway between the steep rock wall and the roadway. I pulled over and Lisa bailed out while I retrieved a leash and opened the rear of the vehicle. The dog moved cautiously out onto the highway towards her. Several vehicles roared over the hill not bothering to slow down for the dog and woman in the roadway as they tore on past. They were obviously very important people but we rubes just didn’t know who they were. Shame on us.

The little female was actively lactating and obviously had puppies nearby but we had no way of knowing where they might be. She readily climbed into the back of the Ford Excursion and curled up on the deep pile dog blanket kept in the cargo area. Lisa also keeps dog food and water along with cut down milk cartons for bowels as dog rescue is one of her passions and in this country it happens a lot. People from Albuquerque and other urban centers routinely dump their canine companions along the road when they become inconvenient. The dog was starving and wolfed down the food, drank a bowel of water and curled up in the warmth of the blanket.

Sierra

With Lisa in the back with the dog and Caesar sitting in the co-pilot seat, I headed the rig for Grants, New Mexico and the office of veterinarians Drs. Frank and Becky Anderson nearly 200 miles away. Late in the afternoon we departed Grants with the dog we were now calling Sierra. Dr. Frank thought it a classy name for a very classy dog even in her tragic condition. Inoculations, worming and a thorough exam had been accomplished. Once back in the vehicle she collapsed and slept for the 80 mile run to the ranch.

Sierra spent the night in Caesar’s crate and dog run enjoying Lisa’s fussing over her. She is sweet, smart and obviously has had some training as she knows come and sit and, in spite of her treatment by some of them, she loves people. She is quiet but protectively ferocious as she tied into Caesar who just rather took her assault with perplexed forbearance.

She must have nearly frozen in the cold and snow of the previous several days. I examined her paws and she has carpet feet, very soft to the touch, no redness or tenderness on the pads, the hair and nails not worn down all of which told me that she had not traveled to that remote location on foot. Either she had run off from a vehicle or been dumped on the side of the road. Experience in this country strongly suggests support for the latter. She weighs 42 pounds on an 80 pound frame and the collar that was crimped shut and sagging on her neck had a four inch gap in it.

Up early this morning stock was fed and chores done before we loaded Sierra and Caesar into the rig again and headed back to where we had found her. We first went to the police station in Springerville and asked if there was a report of a lost dog matching her description. The dispatcher called the animal control officer who was a very kind and gentle fellow and of quite a great size. He took down the information and told us about a local rescue organization that might be able to help find her a home as the local shelter only keeps dogs for five days and then puts them down.

While standing in the parking lot while the animal control officer photographed her for possible prosecution if those responsible might ever be found, two police units pulled in. The local sergeant and another officer exited their vehicles. The sergeant looks at the emaciated dog and makes some sort of joke to his subordinate about how skinny she was. I bristled and bit my tongue not to get in this jerks face about how he might feel if he were in the condition of the dog, but I needed the help of the animal control guy and did not want to put him in a bad position getting between the cops he works with and a citizen that had the temerity to confront inappropriate police behavior.

Travelling next to the local vet, Lisa took the dog inside and asked the staff if they recognized her. The receptionist said that lots of dogs were being abandoned or “surrendered” because folks cannot afford to feed them. I did not like the veterinarian who did not bother to walk around the counter to look at the dog when Lisa asked if he could tell how long it had been since Sierra had nursed her puppies.

I drove back to near where we had found her and Lisa put Sierra on a long line and started walking eastbound along US 60. I proceeded about a mile east to the base of the long hill, pulled off and began casting for tracks as I worked my way back westbound.

Trail to the top of the cut

Lisa was on the north side of the highway about 200 yards away when I saw Sierra go to full point looking south towards the top of the cut. They crossed the highway with the dog eagerly pulling Lisa along and scrambled up the soft cut bank on the south side of the road. When they reached the top, the dog started back west with the body language of being on a mission.

I intersected a faint trail below them that led up the hill where there were several sets of her tracks and some smudged human footprints that had been blurred out by the snow and wind. As I proceeded up the hill, I heard the faint cries of puppies and Lisa’s voice ring out “I found them.”

Abandoned in the rocks

Eight Doberman – Rottweiler mix puppies were in a pile in a small basin of rock. Five males and three females, all full black with the classic brown points and squared heads and muzzles of the Rottweiler breed. Sierra immediately lay down on the packed earth and eight hungry puppies sought a much needed dinner.

Two good friends passed beneath us when they saw our rig and, as folks do in this remote country, turned around and pulled in to see what was going on. Michael carried a box up the hill while I retrieved my camera and photographed what was, in my mind, a crime scene. With Michael's help, mamma and puppies were safely brought down and hill and placed securely in the back of Lisa’s vehicle. Reactions or those present varied according to sex. Mike was disgusted. Lisa was tearful. I was angry. Each of us, Lisa and I, had in our own way asked for God’s help and were thankful to Him for helping us to find and rescue His small creations.

Sierra and her family

Arriving back at the ranch, Sierra is getting plenty to eat and is comfortably ensconced with her family in Caesar’s dog run for the time being.

Times are tough in America right now and for all the trillions that have been stolen and wasted, nothing seems to be getting better for the people of America. The hidden cost is to the pets – dogs, cats, horses – that folks can no longer afford to feed and there are not enough homes for all the critters that need one. They are truly the most innocent of victims. Next time somebody asks for money to rebuild a disaster like Haiti or a variety of other toxic waste dumps around the world, think about the plight of the four legged creatures that share our lives and bring us comfort and joy but are abandoned and have no hope and no voice right here at home.

Folks are appalled at such reasoning, but it comes down to this. My life is better for the presence of God’s four legged critters that share our world and our lives. Our lives are in no way improved by the existence of savages and the toxic waste of people too stupid not to produce a progeny they can not feed, educate or care for.

As for the person or persons that abandoned Sierra along with the fat ass cop that saw something funny in her plight, I could, without remorse, cuff them hand and foot and leave them in the bitter cold without food or water and see how they fared. Kneeling down beside them after a day or so in sub-freezing temperatures without food, water or hope, and seeing the desperate pleading in their eyes, my response would be somewhere in the vicinity of “how does it feel?”

Sierra

As I watch Sierra minister to her puppies with gentleness and determination and when I look into her soft and gentle eyes, I see only gratitude and the quiet resignation of those God made mute. They simply deal with whatever life throws their way with a dignity mankind can only hope to emulate.

God is both Creator and Judge. But in cases such as this, I would be more than happy to act as His Emissary of Justice.

PS: The first thing I do each morning when I am at the ranch is to go to the computer and go to the following link: http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=3

The simple click required sends food to animals in need. Animals just like Sierra.

Far Rider
See to your weapons and stand to your horses