Apr. 30th, 2012

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...I need to write this down right now, because I have to get it out of my head and heart and mind.
Today is the last day of my holiday (public holiday tomorrow, back to work on Wednesday), and I played tennis in the late morning, then went grocery shopping and then home, where I was enjoying a lazy afternoon, all doors and windows open because it's wonderfully warm, when I heard the typical wail of one or more very young puppies.
Went out on the balcony and immediately spotted them: three fur balls, on their own. Heart sinking, I started to fret, when suddenly the mother showed up. Quite an impressive lady, rather big. Two of the pups ran to her immediately, and I thought, ok, one worry less. The mother hasn't been run over by a car or some similar canine catastrophe.
The third one didn't join the family, though; its wails became more and more panicky, and soon it was evident that the poor little creature had got caught up in the fence surrounding the mostly-abandoned building site where they obviously live. I watched for a couple minutes -- maybe, I thought, the little one will be able to free itself -- until it was clear that the pup was stuck. Not hurt -- the wire isn't barbed, but in that place the wire netting was all folded up and coiled around itself -- but definitely unable to get out.
My stomach is still heaving with a mix of horror and pity, when I think of the little dog screaming. Not whining or wailing, not yapping or barking, but screaming. Like a terrified baby. Which it pretty much was.
So I went down to see whether I could help.
The caretaker was standing there, too, but warned me to go near the pup, because the mother would probably attack.
Now I may have lost my fear of dogs, but as I said that bitch was pretty impressive. Not to metion distressed.
In the end I accepted that for the moment there was nothing I could do, and went back up, resolving to watch until maybe the mother would go away, and then dart down to free the pup.
I felt like the worst coward in the whole world, ashamed and helpless, even though rationally I knew that touching the little one with the mother ten metres away would be really, really dangerous.
So I resigned myself to hearing those screams of distress until the bitch would go away.
When I entered the building, a middle-aged guy was getting out of his car he had just parked in front of the entrance, and looking around for the source of the noise.
Back in my flat, I went over to the window and... the guy was walking towards the pup, watched avidly but not hostilely by the bitch, and he pulled the little one free.
I have to admit that I sat down on the floor and cried with relief. Then I got a stress migraine, which I deem appropriate punishment for having been a coward. (nah, not really)
But I'm so glad the guy did what he did. If it hadn't been wildly inappropriate (and probably shocked the poor man into never, ever again rescuing a puppy) I would have run down and hugged him.
End of story.
Not end of migraine, alas, but I'll survive.

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