It's been a very long spring and summer. NACER has been active, but we've had struggles in the course of trying to carry on a mission that sometimes seems so much bigger than our meager means and energies. Our work is sometimes uplifting and inspirational, and sometimes heartbreaking.

Through the course of our existence, we've tried to walk the line between rescuing those animals who so much deserve to find better lives in the homes of those who can provide humane, loving and caring respite from their lives of want and suffering in Mexico, vs facing the realities of animals who often carry pathogens and problems better not transported to environments where these things are less common.
In answer to many caring inquiries from people wishing to rescue dogs from the streets and playas of Mexico, we've long advised great caution, even while knowing the terrible conflicts experienced when having to leave behind a pup that one knows in one's heart of hearts could be saved.

We've worked in cooperation with others who organize rescue efforts, hoping that by lending our hands with educational and medical support, we might help to insure that their efforts could result in the selection of healthy and adoptable animals finding permanent and loving homes in the States, and elsewhere.

However this summer we suffered a really terrible setback, as we received a number of dogs - mostly puppies, who were infected with distemper - many of which subsequently died.

I spent many long nights providing critical care - pumping IV fluids and antibiotics into struggling little pups, battling until in each case it was clear that the battle was best surrendered, that these little pups should suffer no more. Each loss was a personal defeat, though we were grateful that it was we who bore the brunt of this pain, and not some child in an adoptive family. We sent out an advisory plea, to those involved in the animal welfare scene in Southern Mexico, asking them to use extreme caution and restraint in selecting dogs for transport to the US, and offered to help with screening and support in various ways...

Then came Hector. Of the thousands of dogs I've dealt with in my work with NACER, none has quite captured my heart like this little guy. Something about him was just special, and much as I try hard not to let myself become too bonded to our rescues, I couldn't help myself when it came to little Heck.

He also had the virus, though seemingly not as bad a case of it as the others. He had a persistent cough, and bouts of other symptoms, but in each case he seemed to shake things off, and as he gained weight and thrived, with each passing day he looked like a rare survivor. As the reality that he might soon be ready for an adoptive home came closer and closer, I met the thought with trepidation, until finally I accepted the inevitable - that this pup was already home, here with us at Rancho Perrito.

In order to accommodate our dogs, we've built a pretty elaborate kennel here - with adjoining sections, paved and roofed, heat in the winter and cooling fans in the winter - a bathing station and a septic system - all set up in order to be able to safely and humanely care for these special animals - both those who are permanent residents, and those who are just passing through.

Hector got to spend his days in the 'primary' kennel, where he could easily be allowed to come out and spend time socializing with the family, and be given the attention and care he needed and deserved.

Hector got to come along with us on camping trips and hikes, he was the darling of the family, and everyone who touched him somehow felt his special, loving little spirit. Everybody loved Hector. Even the man who lives with me in foster care, whose severe autism causes him profound anxiety when interacting too much with other humans - smiled and found comfort in letting little Heck cuddle up in his arms.

But one day, in the beginning of August, as I was hustling around in the morning, I found him laying at the gate in the primary kennel - without warning he'd suffered a severe seizure and was within minutes of death.
I was stunned, and as he slipped away in my arms, I felt the heartbreak of all the dogs we've ever lost - it was devastating.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Very soon, I'll be arriving back in the Roo, carrying medicines and the donations of many wonderful contributors. Our hopes to deliver the xray machines are being shelved for the time being - we did our part, but have not been able to secure letters of permission needed to get the machines into the country without taxation, as others have dropped the ball. We are disappointed and wish now that we'd spent our resources on funding clinical work, but we did our best, and not every effort is going to result in shining success. We won't completely abandon the project, but there is other work to be done, and we have to keep moving.

So, we will bring funds for indigent animals to be sterilized, build on previous research and pilot projects, take stock of what's next for us, and begin to form plans for the work in front of us. I'll also do a bit of diving (weather permitting) and try to get some much needed rest - it's been a challenging year up to now!

While we certainly don't wish in any way to detract from the serious and legitimate concerns for the people who've suffered from these recent catastrophic events (Hurricane Dean) - we also want to encourage you all to remember the animals, whose suffering existed long before, and will continue, unless we keep them in our hearts and minds.

Thanks to all our supporters for your immense hearts,

Steve

--
Please visit http://nacer.org for the REAL ‘Survivor Yucatan’!