I went back down to the river where they would have gone for water. They were not only not there (I called through the canyon), but there was no evidence that they had been there since we left there (tracks). Petey and Spin were with me. This means that the dogs were taken down the service road by car or truck probably, after sedation with a dart gun. There were no noises. A big cougar might take one dog, but not all 3 – the pit bull and 2 german shepherd wannabees. These dogs are used to surviving in the wild. There was no barking – and I would have heard it with the canyon. Also, I called and called, and they would have heard me. They are generally responsive (especially Tammy). Two of them had leashes attached, and are perfectly capable of chewing through them if caught.
The Last Pictures
I started the hike at the orange cross travelling westbound on the trail, and lost the dogs at the red cross as I returned on the linear outcrop. I had just offered them water from a water harvesting tank (using a faucet that I opened). I waited for about 45 min. at the trail intersection near the red cross. Petey and Spin returned within minutes to this point. The pink path is the hike that I completed with Petey and Spin. I didn’t have a map with me on the hike (just a little picture drawn on my hand) – the park doesn’t suppy maps. It took me 7 hours to get to the linear outcrop. I thought it was a lot shorter to finish the loop – there was little time left with the light. When I arrived at the trail head, I waited at the orange cross until 3 am in the morning the day the dogs went missing (at 5 pm), then drove into Carlsbad to post information on the internet. I then returned the next morning at 9 am to follow the green path down to the water hole with Petey and Spin (who were almost too tired to walk) to look for the dogs. I’ve checked with Noah’s Ark (the local animal shelter) and the city animal shelter, and last night I talked with a man in a ranger’s uniform who gave me directions to the service road on top of the mountain. I slept up there last night, and this morning negotiated several gates, cattle guards, and some pretty difficult off-road driving in the pick-up to follow the yellow path to the point where I lost the dogs. After some thought, I believe that the dogs took the blue path (drawn by me, not a real trail) down the canyon to the creek, and then followed the creek to the trail and back to the truck. I am 95% sure that they beat me to the truck, and were picked up by someone there. The park ranger when I left to start the hike was an older man. I have not seen him since I started the hike despite several efforts to contact him. Perhaps Petey and Spin turned around when the others left, too injured and tired to follow the others, and rejoined me on the trail. Spin has a hurt paw, and Petey has heart and kidney problems. It is of note that all 5 dogs were with me for the first 7 hours of the hike. There was some question in my mind as to whether the dogs got caught on a steep cliff that they could not get down. The pass down to the creek did not seem to steep when I looked, but I could not see the path completely. I called for them down the canyon. This is federal property. My parents have a 2-dog rule. I therefore don’t stay with them. So, I believe the other 3 dogs are sitting in a federal jail cell somewhere awaiting a court hearing that I will not be allowed to participate in.
I refuse to visit people that arbitrarily impose restrictions on rescue, or rule me mentally incompetant. I’m not. I’m not mentally ill despite what others may argue, and I refuse to interact with people who operate in that frame of reference. Having a psychiatric nurse hold a syringe with 8 units of insulin in it when I was supposed to get 12, and tell me that there were 12 units in there, cured me forever of wanting anything to do with that establishment. Getting out involved the sickening adaptation of acknowledging the power of their wrong world view even when it meant medications that involved my life. And it isn’t just the nurses, the doctors will arbitrarily rape your brain with drugs without even bothering to get a court adjudication. It isn’t legal. They don’t tell you. They didn’t leave a record, except in my brain.
I am latin, with a sometimes volatile temper like most latins I know. I’m not violent, or a threat to anyone. And no need for psychiatric meds. And I am not neat – never have been.
My truck has also been tampered with – the engine control unit is not sending the right fuel-air mix ratio, or something was added to my tank while I was gone for 9 hours (all of the dogs were with me, until I had to make the decision to go down the mountain for light and my own safety). I arrived at dusk. Continuing to look for them would have meant being stranded on the trail in the middle of the night with the concommittant 911 call. Someone wants me to believe that they were attacked by wildlife.
It’s a sad way for the trip to end – a broken heart. If someone wanted to adopt the dogs, I would have no problem with that provided that they were appropriately screened, and could give me an occasional update on the dogs. The way this was done was wrong, and highly disrespectful of the amount of work and effort I have put into caring for the dogs.
I found a small 20 lb Schnauzer dog – looks like Petey in the middle of the highway. He was neutered, well-fed, and had a pink collar with diamonds on it – a little too tight. He was given to the Hobbs Animal Shelter with instructions to return to me if not reclaimed or adopted out (they euthanize). I asked the family at the closest house where he was found if they had ever seen him, and they said no. I have pictures, but cannot post. Does not return a microchip.
Back in Arkansas. The sidewall on my tire blew about 200 miles into the trip – I’m lucky it didn’t happen on the off-road section of the trail. Sandy has obviously had another litter – can’t find the puppies. I gave her some food since I had some to spare.
Found the little ones. There are 4, although apparently there used to be 5. Sandy was missing this morning when I went by to give her some more food. I gave the pups some milk and a little lunchmeat.
From left to right: male, female, male, female. According to the owner, pups need a good home.
4/13: the pups and the mama were wormed with pyrantel pamoate.
Left the pups with their mama as I moved north. I couldn’t do to her, what had been done to me AND my sanity is at stake. Last year, all but the most desirable one of the pups disappeared Easter night – perhaps abandoned in the woods? Sandy should have been spayed 6 litters ago. She is too weak to be spayed right now, and probably heartworm positive. The spay may kill her.
Otherwise, a few passings and some missing dogs in the community.
The end of a story that will never be told???