Like elephants...

dogs never forget.

As Maya and I work through her separation anxiety, I remember back 30+ years ago to when we lived in Coloma, CA. There was no more beautiful place on earth, and so when our house sold in Shadow Hills, CA, we packed up and rented a log cabin overlooking the American River, upstream from the Gold Discovery Site park on the other side.

During that time, we made the acquaintance of a woman, also a dog lover, who had taken in a homely little "mostly Pug". Her name was Pugsley. If she was purebred, surely she was the worst example of the breed who ever lived. Her muzzle was gray with age, some teeth were missing; just an old, ugly dog that had found a new foster home as an owner surrender in distress. Her owner and the owner's son had found themselves evicted. The woman was an alcoholic. And Pugsley became the old story of a given up, elderly dog and with that mug, not much of a chance in the shelter at all.

So, knowing all that, and expecting to stay forever in the green and gold valley, we took her in. It was a good fit, and one of the first dogs we ever had to sleep under the covers, snore and outgas all night.

We took her everywhere. She was a tiny little thing. But one day in the parking lot of Raley's, a
large chain grocery in Placerville, she came undone. I was in the store shopping, and my husband held her outside. As hysterical as any human, Pugsley went into the most pitiful array of behaviors, whining, barking, crying, attempting to pull out of her collar.

And then her former owner appeared. It was a tearful reunion for all of us, and for Pugsley, too, who, I'm sure, wept dog tears. It was a humbling experience with a painful lesson. Dogs remember. They remember who loved them in their other lifetimes, and they feel loss to the depths of their doggy souls.

The worst part was the parting. Pugsley's old owner could barely move off and when we turned, Pugsley, in my arms, watched her go.

What terrible things we do to dogs (and cats), and other animals whom we have loved, and have to give up.

Before we moved back to Los Angeles, we gave Pugsley back to her foster mother who said she would keep her.

I don't know. You never know; can never be sure.

There is a wonderful book on animal behavior and emotion called "When Elephants Weep - The Emotional Lives of Animals" by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson and Susan McCarthy. For anyone
who believes that animals do feel emotion similar to ours, and unbelievers, too, it is excellent.

They do feel.

I have always felt guilty that Pugsley couldn't remain with us, but our situation was unstable then. You do what you must.

As for Maya, shuttled so many times to new environments, I can only hope in time the memories will dim. But she won't forget. They never do.