No good deed goes unpunished. That may not be true, but it sure seems like it right now. The good deed involved volunteering to care for Osa. Who knew how hard it would be?
When we first conceived of retiring in Costa Rica, we imagined buying a gigantic piece of property in the country, building a house, and living on our farm with no less than five dogs, several cows, maybe some goats, definitely chickens, horses, bees, and Guinea hens. Jack wanted the hens. I thought, why not? “They follow each other around in a line,” he said, “marching like little helmeted soldiers- their own little security force.” Then he said, “They eat bugs.” That sold me. Our menagerie was a dream we could love.
So when I heard that Osa needed a home, I couldn’t help offering. What’s another dog in paradise, I thought. And anyway, Buddha would like the company.
Since Osa has killed the chicken, we’ve had to put her on a line. We hate the idea, and she’s not that happy either, but we couldn’t risk letting her roam. She’s begun to act out- in the form of chewing whatever she can get her little paws on: Buddha’s foam bed, to begin with, followed by our bamboo window shade; one of Jack’s suede salmon slip-ons; his work gloves; one of my LL Bean slippers; a heating pad, and various carry-all bags. We can deal with that, but we’re weary of learning- by experience- that a puppy might and will eat anything left within its reach. In other words, if the dog chews up something you love- oh well, why did you leave it there?
Buddha is a housedog. When we lived in Philly, he went out twice a day, on a leash, to Goldstar park down the street, and in between park visits, he made use of our little concrete back yard. Here, he’s adjusted well to the outdoors, but wants to be inside when it’s raining, and at night.
We’d love to have Osa inside too, and she cries when Buddha is inside and she’s not, but it turns out that the cats freak out when she’s inside, because she chases them. Remember that she chases everything in sight? So the cats have taken to using our closet room as their litter box. Can you say oy?
