Barbara reflects on her summer at RLRR

I’ve returned from my last trip of the summer to Red Lake and am feeling reflective and a bit misty. Saying goodbye and driving away felt like leaving an essential part of myself behind. I didn’t realize how much I counted on the daily presence of the dogs and cats who share Karen’s home and inhabit the shelter to fill me up.

Jake and Rosie, who sought me out because I got to give them their special treats; Julie, who does binkies like a bunny; and Hazel who gets picked on. To protect her (and against her wishes) we carried her into the house each night on her pillow-this earned her the nickname Cleopatra. Mouser, the eternal puppy who wants all the attention; and Meghan who hissed at me every trip, except this last week when she decided it was OK that I was in her house. Cooper, a formerly feral dog who favored me with his friendship every other day; Rusty, who is now carrying tennis balls and stuffed toys instead of rocks; and Snowball, the alpha female with her regal comportment. This is what I woke up to every morning, and how I ended every day.

At the shelter, the cast changed frequently, and each of them left a fond impression on me. Some of the goodbyes over the summer were of a very difficult-but necessary-nature. The black dog I called “Sweet Angel” whose body was so broken that our only choice was to free her from it. I only knew her for 20 minutes, and all I could offer her was water with food soaked in it (she was too starved to eat), but I will always carry the memory of her soulful eyes and gentle nature. She was so appreciative of a few moments of kindness. Karen said she was “haunted” by her, and her strong spirit and kind eyes. There was indeed something very special about this dog-a dear soul who did not get her due in this life. And others, for whom I pause each night for a moment of fond remembrance.

Last Sunday, Karen went to great lengths to rescue a dog who had been attacked with a knife and left alone outside to suffer. I named him Holloway after a dear old friend of mine, for he seemed to me like a dear old friend of mine. He sat on my lap with complete trust as Karen cleaned and dressed his wound, though it was obviously painful for him. But he knew he was being cared for and healed. And he is. I miss him.

And Tessa, whom I transported yesterday who had two beautiful puppies at the dumpster and later risked her own life to try to save two different puppies from an attack by a feral dog. The scars on her face evidence the life she lived before Rosie’s, but she is as sweet and trusting as they come. I could hardly bear to leave her, but I must have faith that she will find the life she deserves.

So many brave and noble animals, I can’t name them all or tell all their stories, but I can say that it was wonderful to be among them over the course of the summer, to be greeted each day as though it’s the very most exciting day ever, and to know they are safe in the gentle cradle of Karen’s caring hands. I refuse to get stuck in the sorrow of the conditions on the reservation. The solace and joy of those who find Rosie’s fill me with hope for those who still suffer.

I am grateful for the steadfast devotion of my dear friend Karen and for all who support her work. I am particularly grateful that Benay is available to stay at Red Lake this fall so Karen can finally get the surgery she needs to be free of pain in her very hard work to bring more kindness and compassion into this world which desperately cries out for it.

I suppose my life will soon return to its normal course, but I intend to carry forward with the determination and vision that founded and sustains Karen’s work . That’s how I can best honor her and the wonderful animals who shared my summer, and also those who needed to but couldn’t. They are the gift.

Peace to all creatures,

Barbara Bowman

Think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight. -Albert Schweitzer