in the community; about Romania: Madge

dogs at our training site in Targoviste

Romania has a ton of stray dogs. I’ve had encounters with all sorts of them — ones that bark, ones that bite, ones that are hungry, ones that want love and attention.  There are many theories as to why there are lots of stray dogs.  A bunica (grandmother) told me that during communist times when people were “relocated” from the countryside to the factories, the countryside was overrun by dogs abandoned during relocation.  These dogs found their way to the nearest food-source – the cities.  Another person told me that the dogs are “everyone’s dogs” and “no one’s dogs.”  When asked why they don’t spay or neuter the dogs to decrease the ever-growing population, I was told, “It’s cruel to do that to them.”  There are cities that tag strays and give them rabies shots and let them loose, but most towns don’t have the money or the inclination.

I find the Romanian perspective on dogs interesting.  There’s a disdain for them — they rummage through trash, they are dirty, they bark and bite and fight.  But there’s a pride in the perseverance and survival of the “vagabond” dogs.  And there’s also an aspect of anthropomorphizing the dogs because they don’t want  to take away dogs’ sex drive or ability to procreate.  It’s a jumble of sentiments, to be sure.

And here I am, animal lover that I am, in the mix of it.

I know that we can’t have a dog here.  I also know that I cannot save every dog or kitty cat that I see. I have a few favorite dogs around town but there’s one that I heart — Magduta, one of our many bloc dogs.  I call her Madge; the bloc kids call her Dookie. But I don’t like that name, for obvious reasons.

I zeroed in on her from the get-go because she wags her tail.  Most Romanian dogs don’t do that because there’s not much to be chipper about when you’re a Romanian vagabond dog.  But she’s a happy, friendly, waggy, mess of a young thing. She’s gotten to know my voice and my schedule.  Some mornings, she’s waiting for me at the crosswalk.  Other mornings, she’s at the stairs.  Regardless, she knows which pocket to nuzzle to get a treat.

One night before Easter, as I was going about my work as a gospodina (house-wife), I saw Madge outside and hollered at her.  I threw down a few scraps for her and her beau (Leu). Twenty minutes later, I heard the most awful crying I’ve heard from an animal.  And I heard a car take off.  The whole thing lasted maybe 30 seconds.  I looked out the window to see Madge hobbling and then collapsing in the street.  Two young girls (Yasmina and Roxana) screamed and I threw on shoes and ran downstairs.

As I carried her from the middle of the street to the front of our block, Romanian adults were looking at me like I was crazy.  The throng of children who had gathered couldn’t believe that I was holding her in my arms (she’s dirty and has fleas, they said). And, Madge gave my nose a lick.   I didn’t know what to do and I was holding back tears. With the kids in tow, we found a spot for her to rest as she was definitely in shock and had a badly broken front leg.

It’s these moments when I feel completely inadequate living overseas.  At home in the states, I would have gotten a blanket, put her in the backseat of my car, taken her to my vet, and talked about options for the pup.  Here, I can’t do any of those things easily. So I sat with Madge feeling completely at a loss as my brain tried to scan its limited Romanian dictionary for words like euthanize, amputate, sedate, anesthetize.

I overheard the kids talking about who ran over Madge — apparently my neighbor. And I was devastated to think that someone who lives near me could be so awful.  Recently there have been city officials who have openly encouraged “off-ing” vagabond dogs to the point of offering money to those who succeed.  David was at a meeting where the suggestion was made to leave out antifreeze for them to drink.

And right as I was angriest at Romania, something happened — my anger motivated me.  I got up the courage to knock on the door of our veterinarian.  The kids had done so earlier with no luck, but I decided to try.  Sometimes being the “American” has a way of making things happen.  He answered and said that he would give her injections to ease her pain now and in the morning, but that we would need to figure out what to do about the leg.  He could put it in cast, but she’d need looking after.  Of course, we were heading off for our Easter tour of Maramures the next day and couldn’t do the looking after.

But Madge was good for the moment — less pain, a safe covered place to stay overnight, and people/kids looking after her.  But we didn’t know what to do about her leg and her immediate future. I went to bed a bit relieved, but still feeling pretty guilty and worried.

The next morning, I brought food down to Madge and she wagged her tail when she heard me.  As I was feeding her, a woman from another building saw me out her window and asked me to wait for a minute.  She came downstairs and told me that she and her family thought Madge was a great dog and hated to see her in this shape. She thanked me for being so kind to the dog, commenting that most Romanians aren’t so kind to animals. She said that they were going to put Madge’s leg in a cast and take her out to the countryside to recuperate. With my faith in Romania renewed, I almost hugged the woman.

That happened over 2 months ago and I’ve been wondering, quietly to myself, whether Madge would ever re-appear.  Maybe the countryside suited Madge more than the city.  Maybe the extended family fell in love with her and wanted to keep her around.  Maybe she had gone to the “great big countryside in the sky.”  I was sure that I would never really know.  And then the other day, Madge reappeared — waggy, bright-eyed, happy, and a bit hobbly.

Gandhi is quoted as saying : “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”  In my opinion, Romania has a way to go on “greatness” on this measure; I know it has plenty of other irons in the fire at the moment.  I, as a humble Peace Corps volunteer, can do very little to push Romania towards change on this front.  BUT, what I can do is care, take action when it is needed, and model kind humane behavior in my community with the hope that others will catch on, eventually.