The Berkeley Pit, Butte, MT

Auditor, the Strip Mine Dog

Auditor, a stray dog, lived to be 17 years old at the Berkeley Pit in Butte, Mt., a Superfund site. The area where the dog lived is barren of vegetation, and water in the pond is so heavy with poison that when a flock of snow geese landed on it in 1995, the water burned their feet before they could lift off, and the birds died.

At some point, miners started leaving food out for Auditor and made him a shanty for shelter. But the dog disappeared for long periods and no one knew how he survived, especially during harsh winter months. The dog, who had shaggy dreadlocks, had been dumped as a puppy in the parking lot, and he never overcame his distrust of humans.

Butte has a statue of the dog at its mining museum, and townspeople look to Auditor as a symbol of the resilience of Butte and its residents.

Rescue from the Desert

Michelle, who lives in St. George, UT, told me this story at a campground in Gunnison, CO.

A couple out for a hike in the desert near St. George got separated from their Labrador-mix dogs when a thunderstorm came up. The dogs probably couldn't hear their people calling because of the rain.

The owners returned to the desert several times to search for the dogs, but without success.

Michelle and her husband were on an outing to the desert when they saw two dogs out running. Michelle wanted to pick them up, but her husband thought the dogs' owner might be nearby, hiking.

When Michelle returned to town and became aware that someone had lost dogs on the desert, she returned to where she'd spotted them. She couldn't find them, and was about to return to her car when a voice in her head said, "Make noise."

"I have no idea what that voice was," she said.

She made a yelping noise, which bounced off the canyon walls and carried a long ways. Two emaciated dogs came running, and eagerly jumped into her car.

The dogs' owner, who had given up because the dogs had been lost 10 days, cried when Michelle called to say she had them. The dogs had lost 10 pounds each. One needed extensive treatment, but both dogs recovered.

The dogs wouldn't have survived the harsh desert if it hadn't been for the storm that separated them from their owners in the first place. Water had lingered in puddles and in natural bowls in rocks.

Vargo's Jazz City & Books, Bozeman

Francis Vargo makes the decisions in his Bozeman MT. store about what new and used books to stock, what cds and vinyls to have on hand, and which greeting cards he'll order. He also chooses what appealing music to play in the background.

His assistant, Jazz, is in charge of public relations. She welcomes customers and provides a willing, tranquil head to pat. She does her job well, going about it in a quiet, dogged way. Sometimes she goes outside to sit on the cool sidewalk and observe passersby.

People like Jazz so well, they want to tip her by giving her treats. Francis sometimes has to discourage this if a person doesn't understand dog dietary taboos and wants to give her something like a chocolate ice cream cone.

Jazz, book store assistant

 

Coyotes

At a campground in the White River Nat'l Forest in Colorado, I pitched my tent, then went off for a walk with Shakespeare and Mick.

A long, empty road ran beside a river, and after we'd gone a long way on it, I turned the dogs loose. After riding in the car all day, they streaked off to run, explore, and get a cold drink of river water.

We'd gone a good ways when I heard rustling in the bushes that lined the river. I thought it might be a deer, but a coyote appeared on the bank and barked at my dogs. I dove for Shakespeare and caught him before he broke through the underbrush, and snapped a leash onto him. But Mick, normally cautious about water, dove into the river, crossed it, and disappeared.

We have a coyote who barks at us on our walks at home. I've been keeping the dogs leashed more than I used to because of stories of dogs getting lured by one coyote, to where a pack is waiting. In that wild, empty terrain, I panicked about Mick and blew my whistle like crazy. I had horrible visions of what might happen.

After a minute, he came crashing through the willows, soaked. I gave him a treat and leashed him, and we started back to the campground. The large coyote kept pace with us from the other side of the river, barking every step of the way.

A white pickup drove out of the campground and met me. “What's going on?” a woman asked. “We heard a coyote, and we knew a woman was out walking her dogs. Get in!” I said no thank you because I had a soaking dog. She said it didn't matter, but I assured her I was fine to walk back to the campground.

Near my camping spot, two couples from RVs discussed the coyote. We agreed I should keep my dogs inside for the night, so Mick stayed in the tent and Shakespeare in the car. Soon after we went to bed, coyotes moved in close and began to howl. Old sheepmen say two coyotes can sound like 40, but it did sound like a chorus of them. Oddly, neither of my dogs responded to the cries, and we fell asleep.

In the morning, the campground host and his wife told me they'd considered moving me from my isolated spot when the coyotes came near. The coyotes had never come in close like that, and they worried about us. The two hosts had hopped onto their ATV and gone to the campground's edge, intending to fire a gun and frighten the coyotes. But they shined a light around and couldn't see them. Another camper had taken his ATV out, too, and kept vigil near where the coyotes appeared to be assembled.

Hearing this, I felt grateful and guilty. Grateful that kind strangers had kept watch, guilty that I slept through it.

Bella and Georgia, English mastiffs

I met Pete and Roberta Apple, from South Texas, at a campground in Loveland, CO. They were walking two good-looking English mastiffs--Bella, 10 years old, foreground in the above picture, and Georgia, behind her.

Bella is a retired hospital therapy dog who was trained under the Delta Program. She also was a "read dog" who went to schools and listened to children read who were behind on their reading skills.

Bella is five years old and not yet mature enough for hospital training. Pete has some questions about whether she will ever be, and also whether he and Roberta have the stamina to repeat the training.

Shakespeare, before he got lost