10.30.06
Maximus
Friday night as I was headed back to Dad’s I stopped at a gas station at the junction of 191 & 160 in Northern Arizona. The sun had set and the night was relatively peaceful at 8pm. The gas station had several cars and as I got out I was surprised by an emaciated dog. The boxer appeared to be fully grown and still 25 lbs. underweight. All of his ribs showed and he had a half dollar sized scab on his spine. He walked toward me with his head down and tail wagging. Immediately I held my hands out to him and talked baby talk.
I asked the gas station attendant whose dog he was and the kid said, “I don’t know he’s been here for a couple of weeks. I tried to take him home once but he jumped out of my truck so I just leave him. He eats trash and tourists give him things.”
I poured a bag of beef jerky on the ground and left the station feeling terrible. The dog was clearly in trouble, neglected and starving. I drove away listening to the Gladiator soundtrack and worrying. I knew I’d be going by Best Friends Animal sanctuary on my way to Cedar City so at 8:30 I turned around and went back for him.
I bribed him into the car with a bagel and turned north again all the while I was freaking out inside wondering what the hell I was doing. What if I just took someone’s pet? What if I get attached to him? It was almost a 5 hour drive to Page, AZ and I let Maximus rest his head on my thigh. He slept almost the whole way while I talked to him about Dutch and Hercules and yes, I started crying.
The thing is, I believe animals find you. I don’t believe for one second that you choose pets, I think they pick you. He felt like a gift, a solid presence in the passenger seat. My heart was breaking for him because he seemed so hopeless. Like he didn’t care whether I pulled over and dumped him, or cuddled or even killed him. He just watched me without a peep, whimper, whine or bark. The bagels were in a bag on the dash and he didn’t sniff them or even try to eat any until I opened it and handed him one. This astonished me as he was clearly starving. His silence as he slept made me really start to question – whether I could find a way to keep him for myself.
I don’t have a home. I don’t have a place I can comfortably have a dog as big as a boxer, much less one that was going to need some serious medical help and lots of love.
Just outside Page I was getting too drowsy to keep driving so as soon as I saw the sign for motel 6 I pulled in and got us a room. He slept on my woobie on the floor all night. No accidents, no barking – nothing.
From Page it was two hours to the sanctuary. I hadn’t slept well or even taken a shower, I just wanted to get there and get him to safety. Maximus was a hit with the workers, especially one sweet girl who fell in love with him instantly.
BUT THEY COULDN’T TAKE HIM!
Evidently, as I’d picked up a dog across state lines - and as it happens – right off an Indian reservation! If they took him, they could be sued for theft of a pet. I couldn’t believe it. Now what?
The medical staff quickly looked him over to see if there were any diseased lesions, but the scab on his back was from a trauma and not a disorder. She said he would need to put on weight before he could even be neutered as he wouldn’t likely survive the surgery in his present condition. But that if I could get his weight up, get him neutered and shots I had a good chance of finding him a home – just not through the organization.
They gave me some numbers to call and a woman in Cedar City running a no kill shelter said she had room. By the time we got to Cedar I called her because I was lost, and she told me quite rudely that she’d changed her mind and “didn’t you get the message?”
No, I hadn’t actually; I’d been in a no cell zone for the last two hours.
I was told to call the Boxer Rescue of Utah, to which the woman on the other line asked if I could bring him Monday or Tuesday.
By then I was freaking out, I had no place to keep him that long. She was two hours up the road so I asked if I couldn’t just bring him right then. She said yes so I was on the road again this time headed for Richfield, two hours north. When I got there she said, “Uh oh. That’s not a boxer. It’s a boxer mix.”
My heart hit my feet. Oh Shit. Now what?
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him a home.” She said.
I left in a hurry to get back to Dad’s as we were scheduled to drive to Park City that night, another three hours, plus the two hours back to his house. On the road I felt like I was seven all over again. I’d fallen in love with another animal I couldn’t have. I cried all the way back to Dad’s but knew ultimately it was worth having stopped to help. My own sense of honor would have plagued me if I hadn’t gone back. I would have wondered for days if he were okay. I also decided I’m done traveling, at least not without a semi permanent home to come back to. I’m done living out of my duffel bags and passing up opportunity because I don’t have a place to call my own and make decisions for my betterment and or others simply because I have to clear it with whoever I’m staying with, or sleeping in my jeep.
I’m done with this impermanence. I’ll still wander but maybe for a week or two at a time versus seven months at a time.
I got to Dad’s feeling like I’d been steam rolled. He took a look at me and said, “How about we stop for ice cream on the way?”
I nodded, chin quivering and eyes stinging. “That sounds great.”
In Park City I found a part of Utah I think I could love. I think I could put in some roots and really like the area. Then yesterday afternoon I got a call that made this all worth it – Maximus will be going to his newly adopted home with three brothers and sisters on Thursday. He has a home. It was totally worth it. This adventure was the most painful/blissful of my journey south. A lot of lessons but good ones. I believe I passed my own tests and came out okay.
