Why We Donated A Website to the Local Dog Rescue

Caution: Dogs Adopt You in Costa Rica

When I moved to Costa Rica, I was the farthest thing from a dog-lover. I was actually pretty afraid of dogs, and had been ever since I was a child. Those fears were heightened when I was traveling Central America and constantly running into roaming street dogs or being startled out of my mind by barking guard dogs while passing by. A fellow traveler gave me a tip: carry a handful of rocks or a big stick to defend yourself if a dog runs up gnashing its teeth on a desolate dirt road. I followed her advice.

That all changed when Trever and I rented a house in Playa Negra that came with a dog named Ganja. She was the sweetest, scruffy little mutt, who was so obviously thrilled to have new friends living with her. The owner decided it was best for her to stay at the house when they left to the city… and that’s how we suddenly inherited a dog. We were completely unprepared for this responsibility, and had absolutely no idea what we were getting into. Trever and I had only known each other for a few months at this point, and we had no idea how long we would be staying in Costa Rica, at this house, or even where our relationship was going! I was a 26 year old backpacker on a budget  (who had never owned a dog) – NOT someone who was looking to adopt an energetic canine companion. But so it goes…

Surprise Love

Our first duty as new dog owners was to pull the dozens of ticks off this poor girl. They were everywhere. Her ears were completely full of the blood sucking parasites, and it took us hours of meticulous picking to get her clean. We soon realized this would be a never-ending chore. Thankfully, her enthusiasm for life and sudden love for us made this a task we were happy to complete. She would chase after us when we hopped on the dirt bike to go to the beach, running full speed behind us to make sure she wasn’t left out. When Trever paddled out to surf, Ganja was swimming right behind him, fearless and determined to stick close by. She and I went for beach walks together, and she was the best company, always keeping me entertained and safe.

Expecting

Then after about a month of enjoying Costa Rica with our little zaguate, (Spanish slang for mutt or stray) she started looking a little… plump. It suddenly dawned on us that we had no idea if she was spayed, and from the looks of it, she was not. Looking back on it, of course I can say we were dumb not to take her straight to the vet when we realized she was becoming our responsibility. But we never felt like we had agreed to adopt a dog. It was more like we were her new roommates, and she was showing us around her neighborhood. Plus, her real owner had probably done all that vet stuff already… right?

Wrong.

Ganja was pregnant, and two months later, she had eleven puppies right on our back porch. It was amazing. Helping her give birth to those little babies was a life changing experience, and my heart was bursting with more love than I’d ever felt before. I was so enamored with them, so worried about them all the time, and also SO overwhelmed with how to take care of them all. After 8 weeks of crying pups, milking pups, escaping pups, playing pups, lost pups, and so many emotional ups and downs through it all, we started to find them all homes.

Soulmates

There was one puppy that I bonded with in an extra special way, that I couldn’t imagine giving away. He was the barky one of the litter, always wanting attention, and always sneaking inside to nap under the couch. He made it clear he wanted to stay, and so my little Barky Bear did. His sister, who we called Tila, was one of the runts of the litter and the last puppy left with him. It started to make us sad to think of giving away his last sibling. She was also so attached to her mommy, so we kept them both, still not completely realizing what we had gotten ourselves into: owning 3 dogs after less than 6 months of living together in Costa Rica.

The Price of Love

The next few years were filled with pack walks on the beach, often times because Ganja snuck off toward the sea with her two puppies in tow. There was no fence around our house, and though we tried leashes and training and treats, the lure of freedom and fun in the sun always won. I’d either go looking for them, or they’d come back on their own sandy, hungry, sometimes cut up or limping, and sometimes not at all. One evening Ganja and Tila came trotting home as the sun was setting, but without Barky. He was often slower than the girls, but darkness fully set in and he still hadn’t arrived. I cried all night, picturing the worst, and woke up before the sun to go looking for him at the beach. When we arrived, he was right there waiting for me. My heart leaped with joy and relief, and I started to realize how scary it was to love this little creature so much.

Then there was the time Barky licked a cane toad. We didn’t realize at first that’s what had happened, but we noticed he seemed a little out of sorts when he came inside that night to sleep. In the morning he was foaming and the mouth, and having tremors. I rinsed his mouth out, fed him egg from a syringe, hoping and waiting for him to be okay again. Thankfully he pulled through. Many dogs don’t survive encounters with cane toads, especially if they are small dogs, or if they get a good mouthful of poison. Something I was certainly not aware of until this frightening event! He must not have gotten too much poison, but it was enough to scare the hell out of me, and leave a burn mark on his tongue that I can still see today when he yawns. What else did I have to be afraid of hurting my babies here?

Reality Check

It didn’t take long to find out. When they all got tick fever a few years later, it felt like my world was ending. We tried so hard to keep the ticks off them, with medicine and regular inspections. But it was inevitable in this climate. They started their medicine, but Tila and Ganja just got sicker. There was an outbreak of distemper going around, apparently, and they weren’t vaccinated. We immediately quarantined Barky, and he got his shot as soon as it was safe. But poor Ganja and Tila had to try and survive both of these awful diseases. I felt awful. I felt stupid. I felt guilty. Why didn’t we know how to prevent this?  We’d gotten Barky and Tila fixed at the vet, but were never encouraged to get this vaccination. We also didn’t really do the research. There was no one to blame but ourselves, and all we could do now was try our best to help them through this.

Miraculously, Tila survived. Ganja, who was always so tough and full of life just couldn’t fight any more. Saying goodbye to her was one of the saddest days of my life. She taught me to love and get over my fear of dogs, and we were forever bonded by the experience of her having puppies. My only consolation was that she lived an amazing doggie life during her few years on earth, running free on the beach, swimming and surfing, chasing iguanas, stealing eggs from the neighbors to feed her puppies, and sparring with the bulls that lived down the street. She surely packed in the adventures, but she deserved a longer, healthier life. And our lack of knowledge was to blame.

Volunteering at Local Clinics

It was around this time that I started volunteering at Hope 4 A Street Dog, the local dog rescue that sponsored castration clinics in the area in an effort to control the stray dog population. I started learning from the other volunteers all the “do’s and don’ts” of dog ownership in Costa Rica. There were SO MANY things to watch out for. Everything I’d learned so far, I had learned the hard way. I was so tired of those experiences, and grateful for all that I was learning.

I continued to help out at the spay and neuter clinics, and with some other small jobs like designing flyers and social media posts for the organization. I wanted to help educate others about the things I learned too late. I realized that my web design skills were a great way to help Hope 4 A Street dog create a platform to share their knowledge and stories, and have an easier way for supporters to donate to their efforts. So I set to work designing and building their new website, at hope4astreetdog.org. I was driven by the memory of Ganja, and the regret I still have for not knowing how to care for her better. I hope to continue volunteering my time whenever I can, and adding to the education section of the website with articles written by local veterinarians, and in the future creating educational brochures. I may never get Ganja back, but I am proud of the small contribution I’ve made that helps the larger efforts of this wonderful local organization. 

Check out the website and read the stories of the amazing rescues and adoptions that the local women who make up this organization worked so hard to make happen. It’s so heartwarming to see how their love for animals brought this group together, and how much they have been able to accomplish over the years. I can only hope that someday I learn to be half as compassionate and selfless as the founders of Hope 4 A Street Dog. For now, it’s an honor to help in the ways I know how, by volunteering my web and graphic design skills.