by Jane Dewar, 12 November 2000
Photo
left shows Kari, photo right shows Steuart in a typical cuddle with the princesses, Bwindi, Kari and
Soakie, taken 15Sep00.
Construction at GH continues, but now it’s the more mundane things, like digging and setting up utility trenches, plumbing and electrical work and waiting for the steel manufacturing, so there’s not much to show in photos or to report, other than things are more or less still on schedule. Since GH is a part of our lives, the events of this past weekend, while not directly related to gorillas, had a profound effect on us. I’ve written this as a cathartic release for the loss of a beloved friend, who is well known to anyone who has visited Gorilla Haven.
In
May 1997, we had been in our new home in north Georgia for a few months with our
only dog, Bwindi, a rescue from a humane society in the Chicago suburbs, and the
five cats that came with the cabin.
A kennel with dog house and nice, large fencing was already in place, so
we decided to go to the local humane society to pick out two dogs for the
outside kennel, so Bwindi could have puppy playmates.
We never pay for animals, since there are so many strays in need of good
homes. Steuart selected Romeo and Juliet and for good measure we picked the
largest and the smallest adult cats we saw there, who we named Midnight and
Balou.
As
soon as we entered the decrepit humane society (since closed down), I noticed a
black, fuzzy thing, covered with fleas and large, female ticks over her eyes and
around her mouth. It was a black poodle mix of some kind and when I opened
the door to her tiny cage, this creature just melted into my chest, as I petted
her. Without consulting Steuart, I told the people we’d take this dog
too. I hadn’t noticed the tiny black ball of flea-ridden fluff in the
back of the cage – her 10 week old baby. Unperturbed, I announced
we’d take both dogs too, making it 4 dogs and 2 cats we’d take.*
Steuart just looked at me and asked where the 3rd and 4th dogs would stay, since
the kennel was ok for Romeo and Juliet, but not necessarily four dogs. I
told him they’d be indoor dogs with Bwindi. Steuart’s jaw
dropped but he said nothing, knowing when I get passionate, he just has to sit
back and wait. Besides, I live by my gut instincts which are rarely, if
ever, wrong – and he knew this.
*(Until I returned later that day to bring back the empty, borrowed carriers, when I saw Morgan and her four 5 week old kittens about to be gassed, and rescued them too, making it 11 animals rescued in one day – some kind of a record, I’m sure. Steuart hasn’t allowed me to return to any humane society unchaperoned since!)
We
took all our newly adopted animals to the vet for check ups and shots and
arranged for their spaying and/or neutering at the appropriate times, not
wanting to add to the population of unwanted stray animals – an epidemic
worldwide. Romeo and Juliet hit it off immediately, as did Midnight and Balou.
But convincing Bwindi she was no longer the Queen of the Cabin was another
story. We named the mama poodle mix Kari, and gave her baby the name
Soakie, in honor of Dian Fossey’s camp in Rwanda, called Karisoke.
Bwindi wasn’t thrilled with Kari’s arrival, but eventually they became fast
friends and playmates. We got both Kari and Soakie cleaned up and clipped,
revealing sweet, gentle and loving souls.
It
was clear from her behavior for the first two years we had her, that Kari had
been severely abused at her previous home. Indeed, we and our many guests
would often say how they couldn’t begin to imagine how anyone could have just
dumped her and her baby out on the side of the road, like they’d done
(thankfully, someone else found them and brought them to the shelter). Kari
would run, shiver and hide whenever someone walked too fast or talked too
loudly, and the first time I deep fried something in my kitchen, Kari hid, until
I convinced her it was safe to come out. Bwindi always nagged and bitched
at Kari, who took her role as the lowest ranking dog of the pack with resigned
dignity. Her baby, Soakie, just figured she was loved since she was the
baby – like the Jim Henson show “Dinosaurs”, Soakie always seemed to be
saying “I’m da baby, gotta love me!”
Bwindi would demand love from our myriad of guests, wagging her tail and barking
incessantly until she was told how adorable she was, at which time she’d
become the guest’s new best friend. But Kari would sit back and
gratefully accept any scraps of love or affection she could get – and once in
our home, she got plenty.
The Woo-Woo
Just
over a year ago, Kari started finally showing signs our constant reassurances,
mega-doses of love, affection and attention were working on her self-confidence
and self esteem. The woo-woo was the first sign of a change in Kari and
the emergence of a confident, playful, often just plain silly puppy dog!
Whenever someone came in the cabin, she’d begin to bark, but it would come out
as “woo-woo” as she’d wag her curled, long-haired tail – hesitantly -
looking like a flirtatious French maid with a feather duster. Later, the
woo-woo stage turned into the woo-woo followed by the squeaky toy, as she’d
run and fetch one of the gazillion toys the indoor dogs have at their disposal,
squeaking it as often as she could, while wagging her tail with more confidence,
to let her pleasure be known.
Several
months ago, Kari started challenging Bwindi’s position as alpha doggie, and
wouldn’t cower and hide whenever Bwindi yapped at her, instead holding her
ground, which really ticked Bwindi off, since she quite enjoys being a bully at
times. Kari and Bwindi got into a couple of fights, which always ended
with each of them, muttering and grumbling under their breath as they did their
butt-sniffing circle dance. Within moments, they’d be playing and
wrestling and chasing toys or napping side by side. The three Princess Puppies,
as they became known, since they were privileged to live in the cabin with the
Humans, were like the 3 musketeers. They played, ate, slept, loved and
were together constantly … until Saturday.
Saturday
November 11, 2000 was a typical day – house guests had arrived the day before
expecting a tour of the GH facilities and Steuart drove off in his Jeep to show
them around. We’d just rescued 2 baby kittens, who had been used as
baseballs by some abusive kids, so I was out front watching their introductions.
Kari, as always, wanted to nuzzle and play with the kittens, and she was wagging
her tail, rump in the air, “inviting” tiny Benny to play, but graciously
accepting his unwillingness. Steuart drove around the base of Phase I and
when they heard the car, both Kari and Bwindi ran off after him, to join the
other 6 dogs already chasing the car. As they did a gazillion times before, they
knew running around the habitat, with the newly formed mud puddles, would be
such a treat! The cabin is a few hundred yards from the habitat and I knew
Steuart’s routine was to park by the bottom and walk around, so I didn’t
think anything of it and went back inside the cabin. Unbeknownst to me,
Steuart had decided to drive around the habitat, since it was too muddy and
slippery to walk.
Somehow,
despite the fact that all the dogs knew and respected cars, Kari ran or was
pushed accidentally under the wheels of the Jeep. She died instantly. No
one in the car felt or heard anything. Steuart had been going extra slow
and it was only when one guest saw Bwindi standing over a dark form in the
rear-view mirror that Steuart had a clue something was wrong … terribly,
tragically wrong.
When
I got to Steuart, sitting on a fallen log, tears were streaming down his cheeks
onto Kari’s lifeless body in his arms, as I screamed “no, no, no” a
million times. But all the screaming in the world wouldn’t bring her
back. Guests used to marvel at the way Kari would lay on her back for
hours (literally!), in puppy heaven if you scratched her belly. My aunt
was just here and one afternoon both she and Kari fell asleep in the armchair
and both were snoring up a storm, but looking so cute and peaceful I didn’t
dare to wake either of them. Someone said Kari was like a sponge, who
could and would soak up the love and affection you showed her and return it to
you a hundred-fold. Bwindi and Soakie and all the other critters at GH are
sweet, affectionate animals too, but they don’t hold a candle to Kari’s
sweetness.
Kari
was told hundreds of times daily, how much she was loved. I’d sing songs
to her (and the other critters) and whenever I sat down, she’d be there,
waiting for some lovings, which I never refused her. The only salvation is
knowing she knew how much she was loved – and that she died instantly, without
much suffering. We were privileged to have her in our lives for 3 ½
years, and as I write this the tears flowing are just the beginning of the ones
yet to come, whenever we think of our beloved Kari-Berry.
She’s
buried in the critter cemetery – in front of Squeak, one of Morgan’s
kittens, who ironically died of renal failure a year earlier - on 11Nov99.
I brought Kari’s body back to the cabin and sat on the ground with her, while
all the dogs and cats came to see why I was crying so hard and to sniff Kari.
She looked up at me with her lifeless eyes, looking just the way she looked when
getting her belly scratched, so I continued to pet her and tell her how much
we’d miss her, while Steuart and our friend dug her grave. Bwindi never
left Kari’s side, from the time she was hit to the time she was buried.
She continued to sniff my clothes and look for Kari, even crying herself when
she saw me crying.
Around 9:30 p.m. last night Bwindi and Soakie both went out, as usual, for routine potty breaks. But only Soakie returned as usual. Bwindi didn’t come back right away. Steuart found her by the cemetery, sniffing where Kari’s body had last been before being buried. Soakie woke me at 2:30 a.m. to go out and once again, she returned right away, but not Bwindi. I went out and shone the flashlight towards the cemetery, where I saw Bwindi’s ghostly white body searching for her friend. When she came back in, she cuddled so close to me, I could hardly move.
Life Lessons
While
this is hardly the biggest tragedy to befall us, it feels monumental, since Kari
was such a part of our everyday life. I am convinced tragedy and
heartbreak are supposed to teach us something, if we are willing and open to
learn the lessons. Kari taught Steuart how much love a discarded, flea-bag
dog could give, how forgiving and loyal and devoted they are – more than some
people in our lives. Her death reminds me to continue to show love to my
loved ones (animal and human) every day, not taking for granted we’ll have the
time or the opportunity in the future, since tomorrows are gifts.
This
morning as I woke up, I looked out, through swollen eyes and saw the Air Force
had been doing maneuvers leaving jet-stream trails on the blue, blue clear skies
of a cool, autumn morning. There were two crosses in between the trees and
as I looked out I wondered if they were for Kari and Squeak - in our lives a
short time, but in our hearts forever.
14Nov00 Post Script: Since writing this on 12Nov00, we've received email condolences for Kari's death from Japan, Australia, Africa, Europe and all over the USA. It's clear Kari touched many lives and was loved by many people, who treasure their memories of their time with her.
