Lucy The Greek

Lucy the Greek - How a Greek street dog came to live in the Pacific Northwest lucythegreek.blogspot.com

Thursday, March 13, 2003 Waking Words Sometimes I am roused from sleep by what I call "waking words." It sounds like someone is yelling at me through the fog of my sleep. It is usually one word but can be a phrase. Whenever I have this experience, I have the feeling that something important is happening, that this is a message, that it means something and I'm supposed to understand! So often I don't. Instead I tuck the experience away and go on with my life, wondering if I'll ever know. I woke up early on the morning of March 13, 2003 with the word "aratraya" thundering in my head. I emailed a few friends, spelling it as best I could, asking, "Is this a mythical land?" A bunch of googling later led me to Eritrea, a country in Africa next to Ethiopia. I spent a day researching what I could on Eritrea and nothing jumped out at me. And you're yelling this to me ... why? I didn't know. So, back to waking life with a shrug and the question left unanswered. I ask, if you want to send me a message, shouldn't it be one I can understand? Fast forward three and a half years ..

Monday, October 23, 2006 Cats and Dogs of Greece I was on a trip to Greece, by myself. A trip prompted by mid-life angst, boredom, the departure of my grown daughter off to college, and a desire to see the island of Santorini since seeing a movie called Summer Lovers which had been filmed there in the mid-eighties. The animals of Greece were at first a mystery to me. I'm accustomed to animals having a general interest in people, coming up to them, or running away from them, but noticing them, noticing me. The animals I saw in Greece primarily showed indifference to people. Dogs would go about their business without a sideways glance at me. Cats, mostly small and young, slept in the oddest places and wouldn't even seem to notice me walk by unless I got too close, when they would quickly vanish. The street dogs in the Plaka area of Athens (around the base of the Acropolis) seemed fed and appeared healthy, but seemed to have no particular home or owner that I could discern, patrolling the streets night and day on their own. On an early morning walk to the train station I had the escort of a wellfed street dog who led the way through the marble streets with authority but never approached me for a scratch behind the ears. Santorini was a slightly different story, at least in Oia where I spent the biggest chunk of my time. When I arrived on the island there was a dog making his way through the tourists at the bus station in Fira. This was the first time I saw any kind of animal-human interaction in Greece. It seemed remarkable in that moment, which seems almost funny now. I was a stranger in a strange land,

trying to figure out how things work. I wasn't standing in judgment at this point, just curiosity. I took pictures wherever I went just out of fascination. What are the rules here? How does it work? Silly and ignorant, perhaps, but I just didn't know. I saw the very pampered dogs and cats of the shop owners in Oia on Santorini. These dogs had collars and though they lived in the "street" (really the pedestrian thoroughfares), they were fed, usually in handfuls of food dropped for them on the marble streets, and cared for, at least as far as I could tell. This was a new curiosity for me, now that I'd been there for a little while. I pieced together over time that the shop owners were a pretty international crowd and I wondered if this is why the animals I saw there seemed much more like pets than the independent contractors I'd seen in Athens. There was one dog who had a dark, hairless scar across his back that looked to be a well-healed grease burn. Later I would learn of a dog in Greece that had been partially scalped and would never grow hair in that spot again. Most restaurants I went into had at least one cat working the tables. I found this charming at the time, still not getting the system that they likely operated under, that as long as they weren't sick or dirty, they could make a living by the "kindness" of tourists. If they were sick or dirty, I would learn later, they would likely be killed and tossed - but again I did not know this until later. Especially in Oia I thought the dogs I saw lived a rather charmed life. Off leash, mostly away from traffic, fed and cared for, whatever their "ownership" arrangements were. I rented a car for a day and drove around the island to see the beaches and other sights towards the south and off the beaten path. Here I saw livestock living amongst garbage, often with no water in sight, and cats, dirty faced, making their way much more typically by scrounging in garbage cans. Not being a seasoned traveler, I had no context for what I saw. It isn't that I think these things don't happen other places - I know they happen all over the world, including the US, but it was so prevalent and so blatant, in places where people seemed to live well. What I was seeing bespoke rules I didn't understand. It wasn't until I was home again that I found out more about this attitude and it is hard now not to let it poison my otherwise positive feelings about Greece and the people I met there. At the same time, the authenticity of the situation also spoke to me. The suffering animals in my town are typically whisked away to suffer and to be euthanized out of my sight. I wondered what it would be like for me if I was getting weekly statistics about the number of animals being killed in my town, neatly and cleanly by our animal services; what it would be like if I was seeing their faces published in the local paper instead of the pictures of the hopeful animals still living in cages, waiting, perhaps in vain, for someone to come give them a forever home. Would I still think "we" were more humane? I would later learn that many of the street animals in Greece live hungry and

dangerous lives and can expect one of many possible painful and typically early deaths. I still find myself standing in judgment, whether or not my indignation holds up in the court of hypocrisy.

Friday, October 27, 2006 On the Island of Evia I'd been traveling through Greece for almost two weeks by the time I was sitting on a bus that was touring me through Delphi and Meteora in Central Greece. My plan was to return to Athens after my bus trip and then head down to Hydra and Nafplio (on the Peloponnesian Peninsula) before leaving for home early the next week. I was a little bored for all the sitting in the bus and being led around like cattle after my adventures in the south of Greece and was voraciously consuming my maps of the area as we hurdled (and I do mean "hurdled") along through the Greek countryside. This is one of my very most favorite things to do, consuming maps as I travel. A little town on an island off the coast caught my eye - a town with the name I heard so loudly in my ears as I awoke those years ago. Eretria! I was surprised, delighted, and excited and immediately I knew I "had" to go and see this town. I read in my guidebook that the town had been mentioned in the Iliad, a fact that did not inspire me - I hated the Iliad. Eretria had a few ruins, and old acropolis (which just means the high point of a city, usually fortified) but nothing grabbed me like the mysterious find of this town I'd dreamed about. I was very curious to discover if there was something for me there. Evia is the second largest island in Greece, two-thirds the size of Crete (which is the largest island in Greece by FAR). I read that mostly only Greeks vacation there and was excited to get off the beaten path a bit. Through the translation by our tour guide, I requested that the bus driver drop me off in a town called Arkitsa that looked to have a ferry over to the island. The bus driver told our guide that he didn't want to drop me off there because there was "nothing there." I assured them that I would be fine and the next day I was dropped off at a highway overpass with no town in sight, my former bus tour compatriots watching me curiously out the side windows of the bus. I feel certain that there are a handful of pictures of me, taken out the windows of the bus, backpack on my back, day pack on my front, waving goodbye. I imagine them showing this picture to family and friends back home with the trailing, "I wonder whatever happened to that woman ...." Less than a half hour walk later I was boarding the ferry to Evia. The ferry had only one open end so the cars were all backing onto it, one by one. Only the last few cars were ushered on head first, but they would have to back off on the other side. I rode up top, outside with all the smokers. I delighted in all the Greek being spoken around me. This was NOT an international crowd. That night I stayed on the island in Episdos, the little town north-island where the ferry landed. I had such a great time there. The people were friendly, the hotel lovely, the scenery divine, the food unforgettable, sights unseen tantalizing .... I could go on and on and on about my time in Episdos but will move quickly past that story only in the service of telling the other one, the one about Lucy.

Saturday, October 28, 2006 Eretria The next afternoon, after letting me stay in my single, twin-bedded room long after normal checkout, the owner of the wonderful European style Hotel Istiaia in the town of Episdos drove me the few blocks to the bus station. The two and half hour ride down-island to Eretria took me through the very tiny streets of small island villages and into the mountains that form the backbone of the island. Forests of pine trees with beehives set along side the road were a departure from the spare, rocky landscape of the southern islands and the olive tree filled hills and valleys of central Greece. Halkida was the town where my bus trip terminated, not the most beautiful town from what I saw but the place where I would take the next bus to my destination: Eretria. Sadly, expecting another bus terminal and in the dark of the Greek night, I missed my road-side stop in Eretria and continued unknowingly for another bit before the likelihood of my error increasingly made itself apparent. At the bus terminal at the next town, a half hour past my stop, I got some reluctant help from a boy and his gum-smacking girlfriend (and ultimately his mother) in finding a late-night taxi back to Eretria. Luckily the taxi wasn't too painfully expensive and made up for the cost with entertainment value in the thirty-something taxi driver and his younger, pouting, couldn't-go-clubbing-like-I-wanted-to girlfriend who talked LOUDLY on her cellphone in Greek for the first fifteen minutes back to Eretria, then CRANKED the tunes on the wonderful sound system, complete with DVD Video player, in the sexy and comfortable Mercedes that was my taxi. She seemed completely disinterested in me until I remarked (truthfully) that I really like the song playing then on the sound system. Then I was in. She wrote the name of the song/artist in my journal and I told her as they dropped me off at my hotel that I would think of her when I would play the song when I got back home. (all true - I got the album and do indeed think of her.) That night I slept soundly in my sweet little hotel room (this one with two twin beds) after a walk to town for some dinner of a French hot dog (not as good as the French hot dogs in Copenhagen, sadly) at a Kiosk on the waterfront of town. I wondered why I was here, in this town. If I was summoned, what was I summoned for?

Sunday, October 29, 2006 Little Black Dog Sunday morning dawned with my stomach growling. I headed out to look for food first thing, not a little concerned as I'd been warned about Sundays in Greece that everything is typically closed at least until late afternoon, if not for the day entirely. I had meager rations if it came to that, but I was quite hopeful that it would not. I walked the several blocks to the waterfront/tourist area that looked much like others I'd seen in Greece. With no perceptible tide in the Mediterranean, the sea-fronts have a much different look than the oceanfronts I'm accustomed to. Ferries that have no need of elaborate docks and ramps to accommodate large tides merely pull up hard-edged bulkheads and lower their own ramps, and each restaurant or taverna that is on the land side of the waterfront street has a corresponding covered outdoor dining area right alongside (or over) the water. I had not walked but a few steps down the main waterfront drag before a little

black dog came right up to me. Here in the US, at least where I live, this would be a non-event – after two weeks in Greece, I was shocked. Unlike animals here, the cats and dogs that I met in Greece show no interest in strangers. They neither run away nor come forward - they simply go about their business, not making eye contact or showing interest or hopefulness - amazing considering how many of them are starving. Not surprising considering how they are treated. Even on Santorini, where the international population of shopkeepers kept a variety of well-fed and cared for pets, I was never approached by a dog until they had seen me and known me to be friendly for almost a week. And even then, they were more likely to lead me on a walk than come to me and greet me directly. Even more remarkably, this little dog lay down at my feet and started nuzzling my toes. Ever so softly.

Sunday, October 29, 2006 Little Friend I took a few pictures of this little foot nuzzling dog and then, stomach insistent, continued along my way. Much to my surprise, she followed me. She had a funny, almost stiff gate as she trudged along in my footsteps. (I refer to her now in the female, as I quickly thought of her that way, though while in Greece it never occurred to me to check.) I was walking from restaurant to restaurant, looking for signs of life. Every time I would stop, my little friend would lay down at my feet. Finally I found one with an open door and lights on, but when I inquired with the woman mopping the floors inside, she informed me that she was not open and kindly pointed in the direction of the Kiosk where I had found my hot dog dinner the night before. As I made my way back outside, I found my new little friend was waiting for me. As the door swung open towards her, she dodged it in a way that told me she was used to watching and dodging to get out of the way of those who did not give her deference. We walked together around the curve of the harbor to the Kiosk. With difficulty, as I had no Greek and there wasn't much English to be found in Eretria, I ordered my coffee, doing everything I could to NOT get "Greek Coffee", which must be an acquired taste and I had found could be difficult to avoid. I was served a wonderful cup of cappuccino with my meal (which I cannot, for the life of me, remember) and I sat with it at the tall sidewalk table. My little friend laid down next to my table. She never once begged for food from me and I did not feed her, though some other tourists called her over and I imagine she took some scraps from them. When she was done with them, she came back to my table and laid down again. And why didn't I feed her? I guess it was based on a metropolitan version of the what I learned in the wilderness from my father, that you don't feed the wild animals as it upsets their eco-system. Knowing what

I know now, I don't know if I would have made the same choice, but that is what I decided then. I'm still not sure I was wrong, but knowing now how hungry she likely was, it's amazing to me that she didn't look at my meal with the guilt inducing stares that the dogs I know here use with great skill.

Sunday, October 29, 2006 Sinking in After breakfast I began walking back along the lovely waterfront in the general direction of my motel, my new friend at my heals. I was starting to wonder more about her. The fact that she had singled me out, even above the people who'd fed her, was touching and curious. I found a spot by a tree in the grass by the harbor and sat down - a somewhat brave act, but there were no benches to sit on and I was really ready to get my hands on this little pup. As I sat down, cross legged, she came up to me and gently tucked her head into the crook of my arm. Not in fear, but in trust. My heart swelled. I told her to lie down, which I instantly realized was silly. Even if she understood commands, which was unlikely, she would not have understood my English. I gently showed her how to lie down, guiding her into position in front of my bent leg. She was willing, but stiff, as if unsure of what I wanted. It occurred to me that she might never have sat with a person in this way. I also thought that the physical stiffness I'd seen in her gate might be affecting her willingness or ability to lie down easily. Finally, we relaxed into each other and I started to pet her. What was this little dog's story? As I felt her body I realized that she was skinnier than I'd ever felt a dog to be. If she had a home, it was one that was not affording her enough to eat. If she didn't, it was remarkable how clean she was. She had a little mat of fur under one ear. While I sat and petted her I gently separated the hairs and released the knotted fur. She took this in stride, seeming to be happy to be touched and cared for in any way. It was then that I started to wonder about what I could do for her. I thought through what it would take to bring her home. I'd have to get her across the ferry, to Athens (on the bus?). I had a hostel reservation for the night but was sure they wouldn't take her so I'd need to find a hotel that took pets. And what then? I had no idea what would be required to get her out of the country, or even if I could, much less onto a plane or into the US. I couldn't just open up a phone book to find a vet, as I don't read Greek, and I didn't think that I would be able to find a local person to help me, both for language and attitude reasons. I didn't even have Internet because of the Sunday closure of local businesses. And what of my animal family back home? What would this new creature mean for their lives? And what if she had a family - children who loved her, who would expect her home that night. I wondered if it was arrogant of me to think that what she was experiencing was a problem that needed to be fixed, and by me. Who was I? My

spiritual beliefs tell me that each of us chooses our life on earth, so what if she had chosen this life, here? But then, she'd also chosen to befriend me, someone who might effort to overcome the obstacles to bringing her home. What did it all mean? What was the "right" thing to do? I didn't know.

Sunday, October 29, 2006 Leaving Lucy My little friend and I left our snuggle-fest to continue back along the waterfront towards my hotel. By then I'd come to a decision, reluctantly, that I would not try to take her with me. I just couldn't see my way through all the obstacles, known and unknown. For my own sake, I had to make it okay to leave her. We hadn't walked very far when Lucy split from me and trotted off down a side street with hardly a backward glance. Because of my decision, I felt relief at seeing her leave me with such ease and purpose. It meant that I wouldn't have to send her away from my at my hotel and it implied to me that she had somewhere to go, maybe someone to go to. The guilt that I felt was assuaged somewhat by building the image of her life that made my choice seem easier to live with. I couldn't reconcile her condition with this image, but in that moment I sought denial with some desperation. I made it back to my hotel and eventually packed up and headed back towards the waterfront to catch the ferry back to the mainland. As I walked back through the tourist and waterfront area, past the sidewalk cafes, I was thinking about that waking word. It was clear that I wouldn't have come to Eretria were it not for that dream, or message. But if it was a communication, and it's purpose was to bring me to this little town, I didn't know why. And worse, after traveling all this way, and waiting all these years to know what that dream meant, I couldn't feel curious about this place. While the town seemed nice enough, the state of the animals I saw, and most especially that little black dog, left me with a sadness in my soul and a desire to leave as soon as possible. I didn't feel proud of myself in that moment. The person I was being didn't hold up to the person I'd have liked myself to be - my desire to run from my discomfort in the reality of these sweet animals lives was not something I wanted to see in myself. The shame in the lack of concern reflected in their condition was my shame. Apparently I had a limit too, of what I would do. Just then I saw her again. I was pleased to see that she had a dog friend! They were making their way together on the other side of the street. They had a little moment of indecisive challenge, then she looked up and saw me, gave me a little wag, but then continued along after the other dog, who was wearing a collar. I was pleased to see she had a dog friend – maybe her mom? I said my goodbyes again and I too continued along my way. I bought my ticket for the ferry and set about to wait, taking pictures of the fishermen and women on the quay and the little tiny euro-cars parking wherever they wished or could in the unlined ferry holding area – so unlike the highly structured ferry lines that are so much a part of my world at home. I loved the organic, "it'll all work out" attitude I had experienced repeatedly in Greece, even in as much as I knew it would probably drive me crazy if I lived there. And then, there she was. Lucy. I don't actually know in what moment she became Lucy to me, but by the time I journaled about it over the next days it had already happened.

I do know that my heart fell in that moment. She'd been heading away from the ferry when I'd passed her with her dog friend, but here she was – she'd come looking for me. Shit. By this time the ferry had arrived and emptied. As the cars from Eretria started to load onto the ferry, I started to feel a panic. I was going to have to leave her behind and I was worried that she would try to follow me onto the boat. As I gently tried to signal to her to stay, some fishermen tried to tell me in Greek and their own hand gestures that the ferry workers wouldn't let her aboard, but this was not my concern. I was worried they would yell at her and I didn't want to be an accessory to that. If I couldn't do anything else for her, at least I could try to help in not adding to the indignities she had suffered. Finally she stood back, either confused by or understanding my gentle gesturing. I boarded the boat via the car ramp and walked up the first stairway to a place I could turn around and see her. Most of the cars had loaded by then and Lucy stood alone and small in the empty waiting area looking at the boat, looking for me. I started to cry then. A few people walked onto the boat after me and I couldn't hide my tears, they were coming so fast. She finally turned and walked away from the boat as it started to pull away from the dock and I buried my face in the cloth napkin I carried with me through Greece, bereft. I was alone on the back of the boat by now and I sobbed, took pictures, and sobbed. This is one of the saddest things I've ever seen, Lucy walking away from that boat. I thought, of course, that I would never see her again and that that image and the memory of her would haunt me forever.

Thursday, November 2, 2006 Home Again I made it home late on the evening of November 2nd. After losing one night's sleep in the hostel in Copenhagen because of two drunk, rude roommates and another because of the time change flying west, I fought sleep the entire drive and finally had to stop for a short nap in a parking lot a half hour from home, car running, body slumped against the passenger seat. Upon arrival, safe and sound, I greeted (and greeted and greeted) my very happy-to-see-me dog, said hello to the cats who were staging a much more aloof celebration of my return (a little punishment, I thought), sent out a quick email to those who were awaiting my return, and passed out asleep in my bed a very few minutes later. Because of my exhaustion and fact that I went to sleep at a fairly typical 9:30 pm, I was up and feeling pretty well by 7 am the next morning. I took a shower in MY shower, had breakfast with a friend, checked messages, returned a few, looked at my bank accounts and my schedule, did a little visiting with my neighbor, and then started googling about staging an animal rescue for Lucy. While I'd tried hard not to think a lot about her during the last few days of my trip, I kept finding myself running through possible scenarios of rescue, most revolving around the theme of finding out what I would need to know and do to get her out of the country: thoughts of flying back to Athens, renting a car, driving to Eretria to pick her up, taking her to a vet, and flying back - all of which would be devastatingly expensive for me at this point after just returning from my trip abroad. I didn't know how I would do it, but her trusting little face was haunting me. I googled something like "rescue animal europe" (without quotes) and found within the first page of results an article about a woman who runs an animal rescue organization that explicitly works in Greece. And then I found

out more than I ever would have wanted to know about the situation with animals in Greece. It turns out the problem I saw is country-wide, and marked compared to most other European countries. In ancient times there is evidence that dogs were revered in Greece but in more modern times the culture generally seems to regard these beings as vermin, like rats - perhaps a legacy of long and repeated Ottoman occupations. Cats and dogs are commonly killed en mass with poison laced with ground glass to ensure bleed-out. I learned of the controversy (not very loud, as I'd never heard of it) before Greece hosted the Olympics in 2004 surrounding the extermination of enormous numbers of street animals in Athens in order to sweep the enormity of this "unsightly" problem into the trash before the world came to visit. I also learned that there are many (though sadly not nearly enough) people who care deeply for these animals. Programs in-country and out focus on sterilization, release, and feeding and, when necessary, medicating street animals or alternatively rehoming (mostly to other countries) those who would be suitable pets and for whom there are willing and loving families. I read that there is resistance to sterilization because some Greeks (men?) see neutering as unmasculine and that there is a Greek woman who has successfully waged a war in the media against rehoming efforts, accusing reputable rescue organizations of selling animals to researchers. She was able to successfully stall the transport of fifty-eight dogs for a month before a judge ruled that the dogs could be released back into the hands of the rescue organization. (Here are followup links because this websites internal links are difficult to navigate: Arrival, Part I and Part II.) Laws are in place in Greece to protect animals but they are almost universally ignored. I wondered if in some way an inner conflict and shame about this behavior helps fuel a shame-based loyalty to it, or the attempt to project blame onto the people who are trying to help. It seems to me from what I read that tourists unwittingly contribute to the problem by feeding these animals during the tourist season, animals that then survive to reproduce, creating more animals who are then left after the season to be killed by citizens concerned about disease. Those that survive the exterminations, starvation, and issues of exposure survive to tempt tourists to "help" them next season. All this was horrifying to me. I feel embarrassed at my ignorance. Not being well traveled I just didn't know ... I just didn't know much. Armed with this new information, my feelings about my experience took on new context and import. Lucy. It became much harder for me to pretend that she had the life I had wanted to hope she had. It was much more likely that as a young dog she'd made it through the tourist season this year and, now that the season was over (as of October 31st in most places I went), the restaurant doors would be closed, the tourists would be gone, the dumpsters empty, and the weather and her life increasingly difficult.

Friday, November 3, 2006 Don't they have to be quarantined? Armed with this new information, I knew I had to do what I could to try and rescue Lucy. I started reading what I could find online about transporting pets internationally. The first question I had was the question people now ask me first: Would she have to be quarantined? It turns out, no. Originally a scheme to facilitate pet travel into the UK (where they have had a strict six month rabies quarantine) from other European countries, many EU and other countries have adopted a system whereby a pet is issued a Pet Passport with the help of a veterinarian and some government bureaucracy. The animal receives a microchip and a rabies vaccination and the vet certifies that the animal is free of worms and ticks and is healthy and fit for travel.

A pet passport would get her on a plane and out of Greece. Now to get her into the US. I imagined this would be more difficult than getting her out of Greece, but actually it isn't. According to the CDC, as long as the dog is traveling from countries that are not struggling with rabies, nothing is required except for a visual inspection of the animal and a certificate proving the animal as been vaccinated for rabies (more detail available via the CDC link.) States can have there own restrictions, but the State of Washington only requires a valid health certificate and rabies vaccination, all covered with the Pet Passport. It is only Hawaii and Guam (in the US States/territories) that have mandatory quarantine requirements even when animals are traveling from the US mainland. And now to find her ....

Friday, November 3, 2006 The Call Goes Out It seems easier to convey what happened next in log form - so many emails went back and forth. This is the basic storyline: 11/3/06 - Within an hour I had an answer back. She was going to send out the call for help. At the time I didn't understand really what this meant - only over the last few months have I pieced the "system" together. She was going to send out emails (and phone calls) to people she knows work with animals in Greece. We were going to hope someone would respond who was close enough to the island and able to help. 11/3/06 - I realized that D. might also have contacts (angels, my word) in Athens who could look in on the cat we saw screaming in pain the Plaka. Tourists had looked on in helpless concern; locals had seemed not to notice. I emailed her to ask. 11/5/06 - D. forwards email from a contact who is going to look into finding someone. The contact, C., isn't sure her people are in favor of rehoming abroad. Will get back to us. 11/5/06 - D. emailed J. and told me that J. might have a friend close to Eretria. At this point, I'm pretty fuzzy about who is connected to whom and in what way. 11/6/06 - I receive email from J. forwarded by D. J. confirms that her friend in Greece is located close to Lucy. She promises to call and see if her friend is willing to help. 11/7/06 - I hear back from a cat-angel in Athens that there has been a search for the cat with no results. She says that if the cat was badly injured it may have been killed by dogs already. (or people, I speculated, who didn't want to hear the loud yowling.) 11/9/06 - Confirmation that the cat had not been found. A promise from two angels on the street to keep an eye out for the next few days. 11/10/06 - Email forwarded by D. from J. saying she talked to the mother of her friend on Evia (Euboia) who says that M. may be able to pick up the dog and send her within the next few weeks. Some confusion about whether the dog is with someone now. A request for me to clarify directly to J. the situation, which I did as best I could. 11/13/06 - J. has talked to M. directly in Greece and she confirms she will try to send the dog in the next few weeks. Still confusion as to whether Lucy is in someone's care (she is not, as far as I know) and as to where she will be sent.

At this point, I have told only a few of people about my search for Lucy. It's hard to sort out my reasons as they are complex. Part of me felt like a sap, falling for an animal there when there are so many here that need good homes. Part of me felt shy about my idea. It is common for me to think that a big, complicated plan is perfectly possible and maybe this wasn't. Part of me felt protective of myself in the case that she wasn't found - for fear that my heart would be broken and exposed. I felt vulnerable in some essential way - daring to care about this little dog. I guess I thought if I kept a lid on my story, I could keep a lid on my pain. I really wanted to find her. 11/16-30/06 - Emails flying around en mass: to SAS cargo in Seattle and Athens, to J. and D. covering and clarifying details about where she had been or might be, how and when she might be picked up, details about money and flights and vets, photos and maps, warnings to me that she could be hard to find, if at all. A flurry of communication about Lucy. I had about ten photos of her from my trip, many of which I sent to J. who would forward them to M. I went onto Google Earth, took a screen shot of the harbor/tourist area in Eretria, and Paintshop Pro'd a couple of lines to indicate where I'd found her and where she'd followed me and sent that along to help in the search. And I told Lucy, as loudly and clearly as I could, focusing my mind's eye on an image of her in the waterfront area, "If you want to come live with me, you have to be very easy to find!"

Friday, December 1, 2006 SHE HAS BEEN FOUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! After such a long wait, I opened my email on December 1st, 2006 to this email: Subject: SHE HAS BEEN FOUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Body: I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT BELIEVE IT !!!! THE LITTLE GAL HAS BEEN FOUND!!!!! To be honest I didn't think they'd find her but apparently they did so on the first try. INCREDIBLE!! M. and her Father are truly amazing ! Pic is below. I just called and talked to her mother (M. was out) so I will call again either tomorrow or Sunday (depending on when I catch). Cynthia I will be calling you as well as I know the plane route is going to be a bit different from the usual route that we use for D., and it's probably a good idea to verbally go over things before I run them by M. HURRAH, HURRAH !!!! /J. I wept openly, my animals looking on, each with their own version of indifference and/or distaste. I had held the image in my mind of her here with me, but still felt the weight of the miracle that she was still alive and had been findable despite all obstacles. And now she was safe. Lucy's coming home.

Tuesday, December 5, 2006 Details Hi D. and Cynthia, Hope you both had a good weekend. (I'm cc'ing D. on this as she might get a kick out of the latest update.) Talked to M. Sunday morning and I am pleased to report that Ms. Lucy has completely charmed her. She said she is an "extremely sweet natured dog." Cynthia, as to your question of where she is being kept, she is in a very large, enclosed, compound with three other dogs and about 12 cats---all animals that M. has picked up at one time or another. (It's an endless process, as you can imagine.) When they went searching for her they looked for about an hour and were just about to give up when she spotted what looked like a small black puppy lying on the grass of one of the several small parks they have in the area. She didn't think that was the dog---as it seemed too small--but decided to take a look anyway. She walked up to her, checked her marking and it turned out it was her! She said, it was sheer luck that she was found so quickly. Apparently there are several of these little 'island' parks in the area (do you recall that Cynthia?) and she could have been very easily missed. She sat very quietly/was well behaved in the car and was looking around her new surroundings "wondering where she was" etc. when they got to the compound but very quickly settled in. And now for the next leg of the journey is right ! It 'ain't over yet. Unless something else came up, she's being taken to the vet today (Monday) for her shots, etc. and to get the ball rolling from that end. Hopefully, it will go quickly and Mireig will try to get her out quickly as well. Cynthia, not sure if I'll call you tonight---depends on what shape I'm in when I get in the door but if not the next day, in all likelihood. She's a lucky gal & here's keeping the fingers crossed that the rest goes well also

!

j.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006 Waiting I feel like such an American. I believe we have a reputation for being impatient; we want what we want, when we want it, like NOW! Communication is slow between M., who is has Lucy in Greece, and J., who liaises between us. And then again between J., who doesn't communicate when there isn't news, and me. I want news even that there isn't news! M. doesn't login to her computer for days at a time (!) and the time difference plus M.'s busy life make her difficult to catch. This waiting gives me time to worry. I haven't heard anything about whether the vet visit has happened, how things went, how tests came out. The biggest worry is Kalazar, but I guess M. isn't too worried about this because of the time of year. I'm not sure why this is and no one will tell me. I can imagine that the sand flies aren't biting this time of year (because of colder weather) but I'm not sure why this makes Lucy less likely to have contracted the disease. It isn't curable, so it isn't as if she could shake it.

Health issues aside, I just want detail! I want to know how she's eating and getting along with the other animals there. I want to know all the cute and not-so-cute things she does. I could talk about Lucy all the time, so the silence, days and days of silence and even more days without news, is excruciating for me. It's silly, I know. She's being fed and cared and loved for likely the first time in her life, at least since her mama fed her and cared for her. She's probably having a great time! So, why is it all about me? It's that over-responsibility thing. There is nothing that I can do in this moment that I haven't already done. Can I relax into this knowledge, that it's all perfect and there is nothing I can do to make it more so, other than to relax? I have such a complicated set of feelings towards those who are helping Lucy (and me.) I'm SO GRATEFUL, I just cannot even say, and at the same time I'm so frustrated to hear news that I want to scream! They're my lifeline to Lucy and my lifeline is radio-silent right now. I also feel like all my plans are on hold and currently have small print on all my upcoming plans that I can do "x" as long as I don't get a last minute call that Lucy's arrival is eminent. Of course, from Lucy's departure from Athens to her arrival in Seattle, mostly because of an overnight in Copenhagen, there is a 36 hour gap. But still. I'm already on pins and needles - I don't know if it will be better or worse when she's enroute. Probably worse it'll be harder to distract myself. I have gold-star tenacity, but waiting isn't one of my best skills.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006 Ehrlichia I got a call from J. last night. She confirmed my concern that Lucy might have a health issue - though it wasn't the Kalizar that I feared, thank goodness! She has fully treatable Ehrlichia. The symptoms of Ehrlichia can include stiff joints, which may explain her stiff gate. If so, I'm hopeful she may loose her stiffness and move more freely (and comfortably, I assume) once she's been fully treated for the Ehrlichia. It also means she won't be here as soon as I'd hoped. She's got to do a three week course of antibiotics before she can get her clean bill of health to fly. I'm trying to be patient - she's safe, she's being fed and loved, she's being treated for what ails her - all these are great things. And M. adores her. SHE's fine, but I still wish she was here.

Saturday, January 6, 2007 Clean Bill of Health \ I got an email today from J. letting me know that last week Lucy got a clean bill of health and that Monday she would be going back for a follow-up. Sadly, M's father's car was damaged in an accident (thankfully, no one was badly hurt) which may or may not postpone their ability to get her to Athens. More news later today, hopefully.

Monday, January 8, 2007 Faith I was finishing up the post called The Call Goes Out this morning. When I got to the point in the story where I started sending Lucy messages about making herself easy to find, I saw the image of her as they found her, curled up in the park, lying down, waiting, having no idea the amount of concern and effort that was going on, completely invisible to her, on her behalf ... and I had a little personal epiphany. There are many times, most especially in the last handful of years, when I have wondered what I am doing here

– like I'm waiting and I don't know what I am waiting for and I feel alone. The idea that the forces in the universe might be conspiring on my behalf in the way that M. and J. and I were conspiring on Lucy's behalf completely outside her knowledge and consciousness - as she waited, cold and alone with no sign, no evidence, of the complete change in her life that was coming her way .... Lucy's already my teacher and she isn't even here yet.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007 Ball Dog? Hi Cynthia, Just talked to M. and she didn't get a chance to take her [to the vet] today as she's dealing with an emergency 'feeding' for two days (Monday and Tues.); i.e. a fellow, uh, 'feeder' is gone for two days and M. had to fill in for her---to feed the animals that the aforementioned takes care of, etc. It is ENDLESS, what can I say. Anywho, it will happen some time this week and hopefully she can be off shortly after that. She thinks, however, that she will get a clean bill of health as according to M., "she's very playful, rambunctious, plays with the cats [albeit a bit roughly at times] and she recommends you have "a ball for her to play with when you meet her at the airport" (!) ;-) She's also eating very well (& M. has been giving her vitamins on top of everything else). So these are all excellent indications that she'll be A-OK. She believes---and she's been around enough dogs and seen Ehrlichia enough to be very knowledgeable at this point---that Lucy will get the final clean bill of health when she has her check-up. If she needs additional therapy, we'll take it from there but, again, this is probably NOT going to be the case. The Halkida vet (the one that signs off on her papers only) wants to see her in person when her papers are ready to be signed, etc. This is something new (and not necessary) but she's thinks it's because he's new to the job and he's not quite sure what procedures are necessary, etc. In any case, again I'll let you know of course the minute I get the word/e-mail from M. Have a good week. j.

Friday, January 19, 2007 Frisky and Playful Hi Cynthia, Well you beat me to the punch as I was about to send you an e-mail. Talked to M. today (2:00 my time, 9:00 PM hers) and she really hoping to get her off and running in a little over a week. As you'll recall, they were in a minor car accident, needed to get parts/she was going to possibly use a cab, etc.) At this point, however, since Ms. Lucy's papers won't be ready until a little over a week, their car should (hopefully "should" :-) be ready, at which point, they'll be back in business.

On top of everything else (when it rains it pours, what can I say) her father was ill with a cold/flu, etc. but is now on the mend. Anywho, that's the latest and here's hoping a little under two weeks, etc. she'll be stateside. She's "very playful and frisky" meanwhile :-)! Have a nice weekend if we don't type :-)! j.

Friday, January 26, 2007 The Importance of Having a Collar Every year for the last five or six years I have gone to a psychic as my birthday present to myself. I usually don't go to the same one more than twice - not because they haven't been good, but because I appreciate a fresh perspective. This is the email I just wrote to the person I saw this year. (Her initial, "Q." is fictional) Hi Q., I know you don't remember readings as a rule, but I have to thank you for the following piece: When we were talking about Lucy, my Greek dog friend, you mentioned a collar. I told you I hadn't gotten her one yet but had one in mind. You asked if it was red. I hadn't picked out a color yet and told you so. Then I asked if Lucy wanted a red collar. You said, "I just see her with a red collar on." After I got home I thought, "okay - we'll get Lucy a red collar." I went shopping and found a few nice ones but decided not to get one till she's here, both so I can size it properly and so she can pick it out. (I also asked Dwight if he wanted a new collar - he wanted a green one, which I NEVER would have chosen for him. Good thing I asked!) Then a few days ago it hit me! I realized what having a collar means for her. Dogs in Greece who have owners - families - have collars; street dogs don't. She had a dog friend in Eretria (who may have been her mother - people don't always find homes for their dogs' puppies necessarily and I understand it's not at all unusual for a mother dog to have a home and for her puppies to be left homeless.) I looked through my pictures and realized that Lucy's dog-friend had a red collar. (see attached picture) Lucy wants a red collar because that means to her that she's got a family. (it brings tears to my eyes) So, thank you! I don't think I would have thought about what a collar might mean to a dog who's been homeless if you hadn't brought that through. Sincerely, Cynthia [editor's note: J. says that people dump animals collars and all, so a collar is not necessarily a reliable measure of ownership, though I thought Lucy's friend carried the weight of a well-fed pet and my picture of her implies the same.]

Friday, March 9, 2007 Lucy's Home Lucy's been home a week now and I can't tell you how hard it has been for me to write this post. I thought this would be the most fun post of all to write - I've actually looked forward to writing this very post - and instead it's been so unexpectedly difficult. I guess it feels profound to me. And all the details about her arrival that I've been sending around are only that, details. I've just been so struck by what it means to have a home, a place to come back to every day, reliably, to the things and the beings that one loves; every day, to be welcomed and warm. Lucy's joy at these small things has given me pause. The utter amazement and delight that she shows in every inch of her body at the discovery that after a drive around in the suspicious and somewhat scary car, she's coming back to the same house, that nice house, and she gets to come inside (not assumed), and inside are toys, the same one's she left awhile ago, perhaps never to see them again. She's seems so full of awe. And the way she follows me, interested in every single thing I do, not unlike a puppy but also with the older eyes of amazement and reverence and adoration. I can't find words for the experience of looking at the world through Lucy's eyes. I was worried (truly) that it would be hard for her to go from her life of relative freedom (aside from the attendant hunger, cold/heat, thirst, and loneliness) to a life of walking on leashes and being cooped up in the car and the house, and behaving. Honestly, now that she's here, I don't see that it bothers her one bit. She can't stay close enough to me, and when we walk off-leash, I now know that when I can't see her it's because she's so closely glued to my heals. And Dwight (my other dog) has completely blown me away. I knew that ultimately he would be fine, I imagined after some sulking. I didn't expect him to be happy - and honestly, in his oh-so-Dwight way, he is. He seems proudly indulgent and patient, willing to ignore or correct her when he needs to but I catch him gazing warmly at her and wagging his tail. Who knew? Maybe all those talks I had with him before she came made a difference, or maybe she just has this affect on everyone, worming her way into hearts and minds, even resistant ones. So, I guess I'm as open eyed as Lucy - amazed at her as she is at me and this new life that she doesn't even yet know is hers. She is playing by herself as I write, with a toy that Dwight ignores. She's throwing it for herself and shaking it, so happy. Lucy, I'm in awe of you.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007 Two months in paradise, mostly .... It's been two months since Lucy's arrival in our home. We've been through a lot in such a short time. Lucy went into heat ten days after her arrival, before I could get her spayed. That was twenty-two days of

diapers and piddle mistakes. Keep in mind, this is a dog who'd lived outside her whole life and needed to learn "bathroom" skills. She has done very well, but the diaper was a hindrance for me and for her. She's got it now. After her first visit to my vet she went on another course of antibiotics for her Ehrlichiosis which I would later figure out was causing reduced appetite and vomiting (the antibiotics, not the Ehrlichia). She would throw up 79 hours after eating so it didn't occur to me that it was related to the medication. Between the antibiotics, her spay surgery, and her negative opinion of dry dog food, she lost weight she didn't have to lose, which was very scary. It was only after she had recovered from surgery and had come off the antibiotic that I put it together that this had been the main source of her difficulty with food. Thankfully, she's now gaining weight again and is looking and feeling (based on her energetic and impish behavior) great! Because of her weight loss and her lifetime of malnutrition we all (Dwight, Lucy, and I) went to a pet nutritionist in the next town over. She was able to talk to me about what I'd seen (I hadn't figured out the antibiotics yet) and help me come up with a raw food diet and some supplements to help Lucy build a foundation of intestinal and immunological health in addition to helping her gain some healthy weight. Even though by then Lucy was just off the antibiotics and I would soon figure out their connection to her weight loss, I am still very grateful for this woman's help with Lucy - she's happy with raw food (as is Dwight!) and I feel good about how we're building up her body into the strong and nimble vehicle she deserves to enjoy. We've had a lot of time now to get to know each other and settle into some routines, which Lucy seems to enjoy. We get up for a quick piddle around 5:30am (she just runs out and runs back in the house), then back to bed. A little later we take a longer walk around the neighborhood schoolyard for a stretch and a poo, then breakfast and a nap (for the dogs) before work if there is time. Then into the car for errands (including dog biscuits practically everywhere!) and clients. In the afternoon we try and go to the beach or on a trail-walk to cap off our day. Lucy acclimated to car travel gradually but with consistent improvement after being pretty reluctant and uncomfortable at first - she'd hesitate and struggle to get in the car (sometimes I'd have to lift her in) and would freeze in place during the entire ride. Now she's an old pro. The car means hanging out with me and her brother Dwight, doing whatever we do, and that's all good. I think of Lucy as very confident. Even though she sticks close to me and keeps an eye on my every move, it doesn't seem to me to be out of anxiety - she doesn't appear anxious at all. Just watchful and sure of where she wants to be ... and that would be where I am. But when I go into my bedroom at night (or early morning) she settles in to sleep on the couch without a peep. She seems to have no expectations - just delight when she gets to hang with me, which thankfully is much of the time. She mostly greets people with friendly openness (and sometimes an enthusiastic bowling ball move that can be a little surprising) but is discerning about who gets the full force of her love as she seems to know who the real dog lovers are. When invited, she's up for a full-body snuggle, arms around your neck and all, but it's not needy - just joyful and sweet. She's learned well the rules of the house - no chasing cats or batting them on the head - and she takes correction when she forgets. She's learned to sit and lay down and get "off". We're working on "out of the kitchen" and "stay" which are a little harder for her - why would I want her to be away from me?!? I imagine she thinks, "Why would she want that? Surely that's not what she means!" She's been comfortable with being touched since I met her, but there were certain moves that would cause her not to recoil, but more like to "sink". If anyone would put their hands on both sides of her ribs, as if they were going to pick her up, she'd freeze and go limp. I don't know what experiential memory this evokes, but I touch her on her sides a lot and this freezing behavior seems to have abated. If someone else does it I can still see her stiffen, but she seems to be learning that whatever association she has with that move isn't a constant threat. Right now the dogs are lying stretched out on the couch - one on each end. If I sneak a peak at Lucy I see she's

sleeping, but if I turn my head quickly towards her I find her eyes always open, ready to see what I'm up to. Dwight sleeps on.

Saturday, June 9, 2007 Burning Beams of Soul Melting Love Those looks are mostly gone now, but I'm okay with it. Lucy, who used to look at me with the gaze of an infatuated lover in the morning at her first sight of me, after I returned to the car after any absence, when she'd look up after forgetting about me for a few minutes looks at me now with a more typical dog's adoration. She follows me, she loves me, but I'm a part of her life now, a regular part. And that's just how it should be.

Thursday, August 9, 2007 The Best Thing I Can Report ... ... is that I have nothing much to report. I write you now five months to the day after Ms. Lucy's arrival in the US. There isn't much to tell you. The drama of Lucy's life is currently in the past and I can surely say she's a normal dog living a normal dog's life. Hallelujah. Which is not to say all is perfect, of course. Lucy's an occasionally enthusiastic trouble-maker. Although she's a billion times less frustrating to me than Dwight was at this age (almost a year and a half at best estimate) she can still give me days. She LOVES to play hide and seek with the cats' bathroom area (this means she eats poop) and it REALLY torks me. She knows she's not supposed to do it too, so if I catch her she goes CRAZY-RUNNING with this snickeringlyproud-but-embarrassed-to-be-caught look on her face. Such an imp! However, she's not destructive and she rarely leaves the yard and she NEVER runs away (though she may ignore me if she's found ... you guessed it ... a potential poop deposit). (and I think she does this out of habit, not a nutritional deficit - if you could see what she eats, and my food bill! I imagine cat poop was a reliable food source when there weren't necessarily others. I saw many street cats in Eretria.) I got to the point of mostly trusting her about not peeing in the house - actually I was trusting her because I wanted to trust her and I wasn't finding current evidence to suggest I shouldn't - but then I found some spots where she'd gone secretly. I took a urine sample to the vet and discovered that I was giving her too much vitamin c in her food and she had formed "amorphous urates" (mostly benign crystals) in her urine and her PH was too low. The vet was relieved to hear I had been giving her vitamin c because this meant the likelihood of a simple correction. I think these were irritating to her (not unlike a urinary tract infection) and she was going more frequently and in unusual places. However, even with an "excuse" and improvement since quitting the vitamin c, I don't feel that I can trust her. She had been waking me up when she had to pee in the morning but with her urinary problems she started peeing and THEN waking me up.

I get completely shame-based frustration about having a house that has pet deposit smells or uncleanable issues, not to mention the frustration of the labor involved in cleaning. I did find a FABULOUS enzyme cleaner/odor eater - better than all the others I've used by FAR. A guy at my pet store said they used to sell it at the feed store he worked at in California and he had been trying to get it up here for YEARS! I use a wet/dry vac (handheld) to pull out as much of the urine as possible (if it's a new accident), then poor a half and half enzyme/warm water solution on the area, work it in (he says he works it in with the rim side of the same glass he used to mix and poor the solution and I find this works well), and then cover it with a WET towel over night. I guess this keeps the enzymes alive and munching for longer. Then in the morning I lay a dry towel on top, walk on it to press it into the area (you like how I keep saying "area"?) and leave that on for another day. They say to use a towel to dry the area and then let it air dry, but I like using the towel to actually draw out additional moisture INTO the towel. Anyway, it's worked GREAT on the carpet and I've even used it on a couch that had an older cat-based "issue" and it seems to be greatly improved even though it's not yet completely dry and the "issue" improves as the "area" dries out. (I share this detail in the hopes that it may help someone - dealing with pet messes just sucks and I've spent a LOT of time researching and a LOT of money and time on products and processes that didn't work so well.) Anyway, this trust stuff with Lucy has been interesting - a metaphor (or example) of how I trust sometimes because I want to rather than when the other being has completely proven they are trustworthy. And then I'm disappointed and feel betrayed. Hmmm. There have been zero accidents since I took her off vitamin c almost two weeks ago, I'm happy to report. However, she's still on probation and has limited movement at night when I'm not around to watch. I'm fine with that for now and so is she. Meanwhile, she's showing signs every day of her continued healing from her early days of starvation and malnutrition. She just finally broke the weight plateau she's been at for a few months and finally weighs more than she did when she got here. She was at a still-skinny but acceptable weight I thought was healthy enough, one I could live with since she didn't seem to be going beyond it ... and then she did, just this week! Her indigestion is almost entirely gone. Her tummy feels yummy and her fur looks shiny and sleek - in fact, I realized the other day that her tail has new hair growing from the top to half way down, the old, scraggly, damaged malnutrition-fur still lingering below. Poor baby. It's sad to think of how much she and her body suffered. So, that's how things are going here. Just the normal day to day stuff with a young dog who's energetic and happy to be alive, impish and learning! And man am I happy she's alive and with us. What a joy!

Tuesday, October 9, 2007 So many more ... My daughter and I were walking the dogs a few weeks back, enjoying Lucy, her spirit and presence, and it occurred to me that she probably wouldn't be alive if she weren't here. I felt so sad at that thought, the world without Lucy, light that she is. In some ways it's an obvious thought, right? That's the whole reason she's across the world from where she was born, because of this likelihood, but it hit me in that moment, just what that would mean, what would be lost. Sometimes I think people don't believe me when I say it's worse in Greece, and maybe it isn't, but this is the kind of stuff I'm talking about. This story is not unusual or weird, though it's horrible: (note the date for dispensing the poison is today)

Subject: Urgent help needed in Chios Date: Sun, 7 Oct 2007 06:02:30 -0500 Dear Friends, It has just become known to me that on Tuesday 9th October poison is being given free to all people in Chios from the Chios Municipality... The mayor Dr.Petros.Broulis has announced on local television and also the local newspapers in Chios that he is giving this poison free.. Now it is for sure this poison will kill off thousands of stray, owned cats and dogs in Chios and is completely wrong and cruel and I really need some help to stop him doing this, so please I ask of you to write to the mayor and sign, because this is a urgent situation in Chios and thousands of animals will die and suffer in pain.... Kind Regards, Mrs.Carly Provan-Politis President of Chios Animal Welfare Society http://www.chiosaws.org/ If you feel moved to protest, you can email ... The mayor of Chios: dxios7 at otenet.gr The local newspaper: news at alithia.gr Please copy your email also to Carly: carlyprovan at london.com (you'll need to fix the email addresses - replacing the " at " with a @ and removing the spaces.)

Saturday, December 1, 2007 One Year Anniversary One year ago today, after a very, very, very long month of worry and trying to prepare for the worst, I got the email telling me that Lucy had been found again in the town where I'd met her, Eretria, on the island of Evia, Greece. Recently J. (one of Lucy's angels) took her yearly trip back to Greece and drove with M. and M.'s father the half hour to the town where Lucy and I met. J. had never visited this town before and she wanted to see where Lucy had been found. Upon her return she sent me this picture, telling me that this was the "pocket park" where M. found Lucy. She was sleeping under the tree in the foreground, curled up at its base to the left of the trunk. I remember this building (and swore I had my own picture of it but I can't find it - maybe the picture is only in my head). It's in the waterfront area where Lucy and I met. J. commented on this photo: "As you can see she wasn't too far from the harbor, which you can see a bit in the background. Waiting for you, no doubt !!" As you may recall, I told Lucy, speaking to her through space and time, "If you want to come live with me, you have to be very easy to find!" It felt powerful when I did that, and whether or not she "heard" me and obeyed or not, I believe she did.

J. also sent this picture of M. taken the same day in Eretria apparently she's camera shy so I've never seen more of her than this. Note the black dog to the right of her in the photo. What you can see in the real photos that doesn't show up in my scans (even high resolution and blown up) is that the dog has white markings like Lucy. I saw only two dogs when I was there, Lucy and the dog I imagine to be her mother, and J. and M. saw this dog, who I imagine to be male, unneutered, a little larger and possibly Lucy's bio-dad. Lucy's paws are large in proportion to the rest of her body and it seems clear that she had plans to be a larger dog, likely thwarted by malnutrition and the Erlichia she suffered from. I also note that this dog, like "Lucy's mom", appears well-fed. I can easily mate in my mind the smaller red shepardy dog that I saw with Lucy and this larger black and white male and come up with a Lucy girl. I don't know why I want to think that these are her "parents", but I do. I guess it makes her life sound less lonely to me, when I am anthropomorphizing her story in my head. So Lucy was picked up a year ago today and we would then wait ninety-eight more days before we would meet again, days I'm sure much longer for me than Lucy as she was living with M. while she waited - fed, watered, medical care, love, cats to pounce on, and balls and other dogs to play with. And I took comfort in these things too, but those days were anxious, not knowing if she would be able to leave Greece, much less when. This is Lucy today. I woke her up just now to take her picture. She gives me a sidelong glance. After-note: J. emailed me this morning after reading this post. Keep in mind that she had said nothing to me about the black dog except to point out that there was a dog in the photos. This morning she said, "That big black dog that you mention in the pics is definitely dad. He looks just like Lucy...has the lemur eyes, the longish face and is one big teddy bear of affection. So she got her good disposition from him as well! The minute we got a look at him we almost said in unison, 'there's Lucy's dad!'" So, I guess we're all in agreement about that! J. also said that while Lucy was with M. her safety was not at all assured for several reasons, included in which was the man who walked by and yelled "poison!" when he saw all the dogs.