Sometimes the streets are quiet, but that can all change in an instant.
I spotted a dirty, white, female engorged with milk. I could tell she was a nursing mom, roaming and looking for food. She stopped and watched me as I put a pile of food down for her. She watched as I walked away, then came up to eat.
I was hoping that once she ate and had a full belly, she would head back to her puppies. There were so many places she could have them hidden. The streets in this area are lined with abandoned houses and thick brush. After she ate, I watched her cut through yards, across streets, and into a brushy area.
I rolled my window down and could hear puppies. As I got closer, it sounded like they were coming from every direction in the brush and I couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going on. I followed the sound until I stumbled upon a pipe in the ground. It was about twelve inches in diameter and twenty inches deep. There, at the bottom of the pipe, was a single black puppy, about six weeks old, whimpering and crying. There were long weeds covering the opening, so if the puppy had not made any noise, I would never have found her. She was terrified and screamed as I went to pick her up. But once safely in the jeep, her tail wouldn’t stop wagging.
Mom barked at me, deep in the brush. I made my way in to see if there were more puppies. Although most houses were abandoned, the street was buzzing with people, and I knew it was a matter of time until the puppies were picked up by someone else, and who knows what their intentions would be. I could see the white of her fur and several small, black puppies moving around her. Mom barked but kept moving further away.
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