New Beginnings - Three Weeks in Tordenaso

New Beginnings….Three weeks in Tordenaso

So here we all are in Italy.  A number of months of thinking about it from when the idea came to mind, planning, still trying to fight the inevitable in the courts, and finally, the day for the flight was here.  November 2, 2016.

The day before, the shipping company came to pack up the things I was taking with me.  I had spent a few very difficult months sorting and screening everything in the house.  47 years, raising a family, generations of dogs and the hundreds of trophies they won over the years, various jobs, a huge amount of books (how painful it was to give away most of the books, books for me are very personal things), papers, writing, photos – in the end, 47 years of my life has been reduced to 65 cartons to be shipped to Italy.

Flying with twelve dogs is no joke.  I was quite stressed about the trip, not about how the dogs would take it – I have flown with many dogs to many places, and they get through the trip fine.  I was worried about the inevitable bureaucracy on both ends.  On the side of Israel, it was all taken care of, I hoped. I had all the necessary documents.  The problem here was logistics.

My friend Dana, who has been the one helping me with the dogs when I travelled over the last year, and her husband, were flying with me to help with the dogs.  However, getting to the airport with all dogs, crates, and suitcases, involved a lot of planning, a number of friends with their various vehicles, and precise calculations of who was travelling with whom.  Once we arrived at the airport, unloading and finding a way to get to check-in with the dogs, etc., was also a big challenge, but we managed to find an airport porter with two big trolleys who found the whole situation very amusing.

Without the help of my friends, I don’t know how I would have managed!  I am so grateful to them!

We did attract a good deal of attention at the airport... The dogs were very calm and well behaved, I was so pleased with them.

The dogs were loaded, and so were we, and the flight to Milan passed in a daze of exhaustion.  I do not enjoy flying, but I was too tired to think about how uncomfortable it was. Even Emma and Annabella, the two podengos that were privileged to fly in the cabin with us, slept quietly in their carryons for the whole flight.  And I was focused on what we would have to go through to enter Italy with all the dogs.

The flight arrived at 21:30, and was the only flight at that time. (Flights from Israel always tend to be pushed to the times when there are no other flights or to the extreme ends of the terminals – in some cities, it can be quite a hike to get to and from the flight).  Unloading was very efficient, and the dogs were quickly all there.  We found a few long trolleys – how lucky! – loaded the dog crates, and headed for customs.

I had no idea how the Italian customs would react to us coming in with twelve dogs.  Indeed, they were quite shocked.  It took some time to convince them that yes, these were all my own personal dogs, and no, they were not for sale.  Then all the documents had to be inspected – 8 pages of paperwork for each dog! – and the microchips checked, so each dog in turn was taken out and scanned.  They behaved so well, very calm, not worried about the terminal, and not about going back in the crates.

And finally we were ready to exit the airport!  We had gotten through the whole bureaucratic morass that had been giving me nightmares for weeks!  We were all in Italy!

We were met by a Facebook friend (yes, really!!!!).  This is a collie breeder from Milano, who saw that I was coming, and kindly offered to help.  We had never met in person, but only corresponded, yet here she was, with her husband, with a van they had rented for us.  The van was just big enough for all the dogs and luggage, and her husband was our chauffeur.

I still find it hard to believe the kindness of these total strangers, who came to help, drove us over two hours to our new home, in the middle of the night, and then drove back to Milano.  There couldn't have been a more heartwarming welcome to our new country than the one we received from these lovely people.

We arrived at the house in Tordenaso about one in the morning.  Of course, as with all the best laid plans of mice and men, the kennel was not yet ready, and the gates for the yard were not up yet.  But there was a fence where I could let the dogs out to shake off the stress of the flight, as long as I watched the gate.  The crates were all moved into the house – of course my new house would start out as a kennel, very suitable for me…

It was much colder than I had anticipated, foggy and damp. The next morning, I began to discover things about north Italy that I had not really been told before.

Northern Italy is very beautiful, at any time of year.  The scenery is breathtaking.  But we are used to thinking of the bright sunlight and warm weather of summer.  In winter, the beauty is there, accompanied by almost constant clouds, fog, occasional rain, and bone chilling cold.  The cold is not extreme like in northern Europe, it just feels that way, especially to me! 

And the most outstanding characteristic of the Emilia region in winter is constant, deep, sticky, slippery mud.  One of the first words I found it necessary to learn in Italian was "melma" – mud!  The land here is rich and heavy, and the mud is thick and clings relentlessly to everything – boots, clothes, dogs' feet…My dogs were quite perplexed by this slippery muck when they went out.  How were they supposed to run around in this?  And soon their feet were caked with mud and it was smeared all over as they tried to play and slipped and slid around.  My boots had about two kilo of mud thoroughly stuck to them, and of course the house/kennel floor was invisible under the layer of black mud.

We developed a routine – dogs out, back inside to their crates, and then mud clean up.  This could be expected to continue until next April.  No one had warned me that winter is not a good time to move to Italy…

And to my even greater surprise, the second discovery of what this part of Italy is rich in was – DUST!!!  How a place can be muddy and dusty at the same time is something I have not been able to understand, but everything is constantly covered with a layer of grey dust.  It seems to take only minutes for this layer to renew itself after it has been cleaned, so all surfaces have to be dusted at least several times a day.  Areas that are not, build up a layer of dust that within a day or two is thick enough to plant a garden…

It was a very hard adjustment for me in the first days.  A move under any circumstances is stressful, but this has been an enormous change.  As there has been comparatively little money, much of which was needed just to move the dogs and myself here, we have been able to prepare just the basics for ourselves and the dogs, with the plans to go on improving things as we can and when there is money for it.  As much as possible, we are doing things ourselves, building, cleaning, preparing, organizing.

So I find myself truly in a new beginning.  It is as if I have gone back to the beginning of Shaar Hagai, and am building it all again, making kennels, carrying materials, and all sorts of manual labor that I have not done for a very long time – and I am really pleased to find out that I still can!  Not only am I doing the things I was doing forty some years ago, but I am feeling like I felt then, with some of the annoying little health problems and aches and pains seeming to have disappeared.  Maybe because I don't have the time to think about them.

The pace of life is slower and more relaxed here.  People have time.  They are not in a rush, they are not too busy to talk to you and smile, nothing is too crowded and busy (of course the difference between being in the city or the country).  They take a break from work in midday, they sit and enjoy their meals, they play with their children, they walk in the woods…The first days I spent here, I was out of synch, I was still on the modern world speed track.  But I find myself very different already, able to take things easier, look around and enjoy the beautiful scenery (despite the mud, and the fog, another characteristic of Emilia in the winter), and not worry about being late for anything…

The dogs are also adjusting better and faster than I could have imagined.  Life for them here has had some surprises, but few sources for stress.

This will be a great and interesting adventure! Where it will lead…well, we will see…there is time….

For anyone interested in the story of the original Shaar Hagai - you can find it on Amazon.com in my book "Tails of Shaar Hagai" - a great read for the holidays!

שער הגיא – חוק? צדק?

בזמן אחרון, לא היה לי מצב רוח לכתיבה

ימים ספורים לפני יום הולדת ה-69 שלי, קבלתי "מתנה" – הודעה שמשפט שבו אנו מעורבים למשך 4 שנים 

האחרונות הוחלט – נגדינו.  נתנו לנו 90 יום לפנות את המקום.  לעזוב את הבית שבו אני חיה ל-46 שנים האחרונות, המקום שבו שנולדה הבת שלי וגם 3 הנכדים שלית שנולדו וגדלו דורות של הכלבים שלי.

לאלה שאולי לא מכירים את כל הסיפור –

http://myrnash.blogspot.co.il/2011/10/shaar-hagai.html

לצערי לא השתנה דבר בגישה של הרשויות מההתקפה הראשונה עלינו, אף אחד לא הסכים לדבר, להסביר 

למה עכשיו, להציע פתרון כל שהוא, פשוט התייחסו אלינו כפושעים בלי זכויות.

לכן, לא הייתי במצב רוח לכתיבה, במיוחד לא כתיבה מצחיקה ומשעשעת.  אני כל החיים מנסה להסתכל על 

הצד הטוב או מצחיק של החיים, להיות אופטימי, כדי לשרוד הקשיים של החיים דרך צחוק.  החיים בשבילי אף פעם לא היו קלים, אבל אני לא מתלוננת.  בסך הכל הם היו טובים, ולמרות שנאבקתי למה שיש לי, אף פעם חשבתי שזה לא צודק, ותמיד הייתי מודעת לזה שאלה הבחירות בחיים שאני עשיתי לעצמי.  יש לי הרבה שאין לאחרים.  ואף פעם לא הייתי צריכה לבקש עזרה מאף אחד, תמיד הסתדרתי דרך עבודה קשה ונחישות, להמשיך.

אבל כרגע אני לא מצליחה למצוא הרבה על מה לצחוק...ואני נשארת בלי כיוון, עם 46 שנות חיים שנמשכו מתחת הרגליים שלי כמו שטיח ישן ובלי שימוש, בלי התחשבות...

החברים שלי שואלים אותי מה המרגש.  החלטתי לכתוב את זה – בכל זאת, הנייר (והאינטרנט) סובל הכול.

כל החיים שלי, אני עבדתי קשה. הייתי טיפשה – כעצמאי, הייתי צריכה לתכנן קדימה ולשים בצד כספים ל"פנסיה" (לא שאנשים שחיים עם בעלי חיים אי פעם יוצאים לפנסיה).  אבל אף פעם לא היה לי עודף כסף, הכול שהרווחתי הלך לכלכלת המשפחה, על 2 ועל 4, לנסות לספק רמת חיים נוחה וסבירה ולמלא את הצריכים שלנו.  תמיד היו הוצאות, צרכים, תיקונים, תחזוקה, מיסים, כל ההוצאות הרגילות של החיים בעולם שלנו. בלי לוקסוס, אבל אף פעם הרגשתי את הצורך לזה.  לא נשאר עודף, אבל הסתדרנו ואף פעם לא הרגשנו אף פעם לא הרגשנו מסכנים. לא ביקשנו עזרה מאף אחד, הסתדרנו – לא הפריע לי אף פעם לחיות עם ריהוט יד שנייה או בגדים מחברים – ספקו את הצרכים.

לא חשבתי אף פעם שאני והכלבים יישארו חסרי בית...

כן, אני מקווה שיהיה לנו יותר מ-90 יום.  אנו מערערים על הפסיקה, לא בגלל שיש לנו הרבה תקווה על שינוי בהחלטה, אבל בגלל שזה אולי נותן לנו יותר זמן.  אני עדיין לא ברחוב. אבל מנהל מקרקעי ישראל, כנראה, לא מסתפק בזה שנצחו, אבל הם רוצים לעמוד על זה שאנו עוזבים בתוך 90 יום.  זה משאיר לי בערך חודש לפרק חיים של 46 שנים.  למרות שהם הצליחו להתעלם מקיומינו לכל השנים האלה, עכשיו מצפים שבתוך ימים ספורים ניעלם מהשטח...כמה טיפוסי...אף פעם לא הצטערתי על ההחלטה שלי לעלות ארצה ולהישאר כאן, למרות הקושי והבעיות במשך השנים, למרות שאין ספק שהיה יותר קל לי לחזור לארצות הברית. אבל עכשיו, עם הצורך להתמודד עם מערכת שלא רק זורק אותך למטה אבל אז בועט בך, אני מתחילה להרגיש  שאולי טעיתי...

אני עדיין לא ברחוב. אבל כרגע, הרבה מהזמן ואנרגיה שלי אני מבלה בחיפוש מקום שאליו אוכל לעבור עם הכלבים. בישראל, קשה מאוד למצוא מקום לשים כלבייה, אנשים לא מעוניינים שיהיה בקרבתם כלבים נובחים (בצדק). במקומות שהם לא אזורי מגורים, כמו שטחים חקלאים, אסור לגור, אפילו בקרוואן (שזה המגורים שאוכל להרשות לעצמי עכשיו). לי אין בעיה לגור בקרוואן או דומה, אין לי צורך להרבה, אבל כן יש לי צורך להיות עם הכלבים שלי. האמצעים הכספיים שלי מאוד מוגבלים, והרבה מזה הולך עכשיו לעורך דין והוצאות בית משפט, שעוד יותר מקטין את האפשרויות.

הבת שלי והמשפחה שלה תמיד גם גרו כאן, תמיד היינו ביחד, במרחק של מטרים ספורים.  אבל משפחה גדלה לא יכול להסתדר בקרוואן באיזה שהוא איזור מרוחק שאפשר להחזיק כלבים, הם חייבים תנאים יותר מציאותיים.  לכן פסיקה בית משפט זה גם מפרק את המשפחה שלי.

איך אני מרגישה?  מאוכזבת, מיואשת, מדוכאת...לא כועסת, על מי יש לכעוס? אין טעם לכעוס על ממשלה שכנראה מעוניין רק באיסוף כוח אישי ועושר פרטי.  לבעלי השפעה, אין לי משמעות.  למי איכפת מאישה משוגעת שיושבת ביער עם להקת כלבים?  אבל מאכזב מאוד להבין שהארץ שאליו עליתי לפני 47 שנים, שאז היה מנוהל על ידי אנשים ומוסדות מבריקים, אידיאליסטיים, תומכים, שהיה רוח של קהילה, שיתוף פעולה, אינטרסים הדדיים, ורצון לעזור, השתנה כל כך הרבה.  מייאש להבין שבלי כוח לא מעוניינים באנשים כמוני שעושים דברים כמו מה שאני עושה כל כך הרבה שנים, אולי לא דברים שמשנים את העולם, אבל דברים שכן משנים לאנשים את החיים שלהם וגם משנים יחס אלינו הישראלים. נראה לי שבמשך השנים, עשיתי לא מעט להביא כבוד לישראל – אבל למי איכפת מה העולם הכלבנות הבינלאומית חושב עלינו, או משפחות פשוטות בחו"ל שכן אוהבים ומתעניינים בכלבים והטוב שהם מביאים לנו? אין בזה כסף... העובדה שרכשתי לישראל הרבה ידידים בכל העולם, ובניתי דבר מכובד ומוערך ואפילו דוגמא לארצות אחרות כנראה בלי משמעות.

(למי שמעוניין לראות דעות של אנשים בכל העולם, אפשר להסתכל בלינק הזה – חשוב לי מאוד...)

http://www/thepetitionsite.com/1/save-shaar-hagai-canaans/

אני מדוכאת לעמוד בפני עזיבת הבית שאני והכלבים אוהבים, פשוט, נוח, מה שאני בניתי, הרבה עם הידיים שלי, במשך השנים, ולנסות להתחיל הכול מחדש.

דיכאון עושה עשיית הדברים הנורמליים מאוד קשה – לתחזק את המקום, לשמור על הרמה, שיישאר נקי, מסודר, יפה...בעונה הזאת, הכול מלא עשבייה, יש צורך לאסוף את השיער שמפוזר מנשירת אביב של הכלבים, ויש תמיד תיקונים, ואני מסתכלת וחושבת, "למה לעשות? אני לא אהיה כאן. לא יהיה איכפת לאף אחד." קשה לקום בבוקר. אבל לי עדיין איכפת, ולמרות הדיכאון, אני עושה את מיטבי, למרות שלא אהיה כאן ליהנות מזה. מנהל מקרקעי ישראל טוען שאין להם תכניות למקום, רק הריסה (חבל מאוד, כי זה מקום היסטורי).  בזבוז זמן ואנרגיה, אבל אני לא מסוגלת לוותר.

לא הכול שחור.  עכשיו אני יודעת מי הם חברים אמיתיים – ויש הרבה! למרות שאין ביכולתם לעשות דבר לשנות החלטת בית המשפט, התמיכה ורצון שלהם לעזור נותן לי כוח להמשיך, להתקדם, ולא לוותר.  לרוב, זה תמיכה רגשית, אבל יש גם חברים שבפועל עוזרים לי לחפש מקום חדש, ומדברים עם אחרים, נותנים עצה, ומוכנים לעזור בכל שאפשר. הרבה אנשים תרמו לקרן שהקמנו, ובידיעה שרוב החברים שלי לא אנשים עשירים, יש משמעות רבה שהם חושבים שזה נושא חשוב מספיק לתרומה.  תודה, תודה, תודה לכולכם!

אני ניסיתי במשך השנים לגדל כלבים שממלאים מספר מטרות – לשמר את גזע הכנעני, גזע עתיק ומקורי שבמהירות עומד להיעלם מהטבע.  שימור מינים עתיקים דבר מאוד חשבו – הכתבה הזאת מסביר למה:

http://www.instituteofcaninebiology.org/blog/a-call-for-preservation-breeding

http://www.academia.edu/3572141/The_Canaan_Dog_Preserving_a_Biblical_Dog_in_Modern_Times

הכלבים סיפקו הרבה דברים להרבה אנשים – חברה, בטחון, בטחון עצמי, ידידות, נחמה, תמיכה – זה לא מקרי שהכלב הוא החבר הכי טוב של האדם. אין לבעל חיים אחר היחס איתנו שיש לנו עם הכלב, ואני, במשך השנים, הצלחתי לספק לאשנים כלבים ששינו ושיפרו את החיים שלהם דרך היחס הזה.

גם עם הגזע השני שלי, הקולי, בניתי קו שבמשך השנים סיפק הרבה כלבים לאנשים עם צרכים מיוחדים ואני גאה ומסופקת מזה.

אני מסתכלת לתוך העיניים של הכלבים שלי, חלק צעירים ורק לומדים עכשיו על העולם הגדול, חלק קשישים 

עם שנים רבות של ניסיון, ואני יודעת שאני צריכה להמשיך, בשבילם ובשביל האנשים שכן איכפת להם על מה שעשיתי כל השנים האלה.

אני לא מתכננת שזה יהיה הסוף של שער הגיא.  אני עדיין לא כל כך מבין את ההבדל בין "חוק" ו"צדק",אבל אני אמשיך לקום בבוקר. איפה?  אני לא יודעת.  אבל אמשיך.

הרגישו חופשי לשתף למי שרוצים.

סליחה על טעויות בעברית.

לתרומות:

https://www.gofundme.com/kqk2ta8s

 

Shaar Hagai – Law? Justice?

I haven’t really been in much of a mood for writing lately.

A few days before my 69 th birthday, I received a “present” – notification that the court case we have been involved in for the last four years has been decided against us. We have been given 90 days to get out.   To leave the home I have lived in and built up for the last 46 years, where generations of my dogs have been born and grown up, and where my daughter and my three grandchildren have been born and grown up.

For those who may not know the whole story, here is what I wrote at the beginning of the process:

http://myrnash.blogspot.co.il/2011/10/shaar-hagai.html

Unfortunately, nothing changed from the first attack on us, no one was willing to talk to us, to explain why now, to offer any sort of solution, we have simply been treated as criminals who have no rights.

So I have not really been in the mood for writing, especially not humorously.  I have always tried to look at the bright or funny side of things, to be optimistic, to be able to survive the difficulties of life by laughing at them.  And life has never been easy for me.  But I can’t complain.  My life has overall been good, and although I have had to struggle for what I have, I never thought that this was unjust, and I can appreciate that these are the choices I have made.  I have a lot that many others do not have.  And I have never had to ask for help from anyone, I have always managed, with hard work and determination, to keep going.

But I can’t find much to laugh at right now.  And I am left without a direction, with 46 years of life pulled out from under my feet like an old and useless carpet, to be thrown away, without any consideration.

My friends have been asking how I feel about it all. So I have finally decided to write it down.  Paper, after all (or the internet), suffers everything…

I have worked hard all my life. I have been stupid – as a self employed person, I should have planned ahead, put money aside for “retirement” (not that people who live with animals can ever really retire).  But I never had an excess of income, everything that I earned went to support my family on two and on four, to try and give us all a decent life style and reasonably fulfill our needs.  There were always necessities, repairs, upkeep, taxes, all the usual costs of life in our world.  No luxuries, but then I never felt that I needed them. Nothing left over, but we got along, and certainly never felt deprived, and we didn’t ask for help from anyone, we managed on our own.  I never had a problem taking second hand furniture or clothes to save money – they served the purpose beautifully.  

I never really thought that I and my dogs would be left homeless…

I hope we will have more than 90 days. We are appealing the decision, not because we have much hope that it will be changed, but because it may give us more time.  However, the Israel Lands Authority that is suing us is trying to insist that we be given no extension on the time, which leaves us about a month to take apart and move a life of 46 years in this place.  Although they were able to ignore our existence for more than 40 years, now we are expected to remove ourselves in days…  How typical…I have never regretted before coming to Israel and staying here, despite all the difficulties and problems over the years.  But now, having to cope with a system that not only knocks you to your knees, but then kicks you when you are down, the regrets are building up.

I am not out in the street, yet.  But at the moment, a lot of my time and energy is being spent trying to find a place I can move to with the dogs.  In Israel, it is very difficult to find a place to have a kennel, people (justifiably so) do not want to have barking dogs next door.  And when a place outside of residential areas, such as agricultural land, can be found, then it is not allowed to live there, even in a caravan (which is probably what my future living quarters will be).  I have no problems with the idea of living in a caravan, I don’t need much.  But I do need to be with my dogs.  And since my finances are extremely limited and a lot is going to pay lawyer and court fees, the possibilities are even more limited.

My daughter and family have always lived here, we have always been together, just a few meters from one another.  But a growing family can’t get along in a caravan somewhere where it is possible to keep dogs, they have to find better living conditions.  So this court decree will also be splitting up my family.

So how do I feel?  Disillusioned, discouraged, depressed… Not angry, who should I be angry at?  There is no point in being angry at a government that seems to be only interested in increasing personal power and amassing personal wealth.  For the powers that be, I am insignificant.  Who cares about some crazy woman sitting in the forest with a bunch of dogs?  But it is very disillusioning to realize that the country that I immigrated to 47 years ago, which was run by bright, idealistic, supportive people and institutions, who had a spirit of community, cooperation, mutual interests, and a desire to help, has changed so totally.  It is discouraging to understand that those in power have no interest at all in people like me who are doing things like I have been doing for so long, maybe not things that change the world, but things that do change some people’s lives and also attitudes.  I think that over the years, I have done a fair amount to bring credit to Israel – but who cares about what the international dog world or doggy families in many countries think of us?  No money in that…The fact that I have made friends for Israel all over the world, and built up something that is respected and admired and even an example for others is apparently of no significance.

(For those who are interested in seeing comments from people all over the world, you are welcome to take a look at this link – the comments are very important to me, at least…)

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/save-shaar-hagai-canaans/

I am depressed to face moving from a home that I and my dogs love, simple, comfortable, that I have built up, mostly with my own hands and work, over the years, and having to try and start again.

Depression has made it very hard for me to do all the things I have been doing for so many years, to keep the place clean, neat, and attractive.  This time of year, everything is overgrown and covered with weeds, and there is shed hair to collect as the dogs change their winter coats, and always fences and other things to repair, and I look at it and think, “Why bother? I won’t be here. No one will care.”  It is hard to get out of bed in the morning and face the day.  But I still do care, and despite the depression, I am doing my best to keep things in shape, even though I may not be here to enjoy it for long.  Since the government agency suing us has declared they have no plans for the place, except to demolish it (very sad, as this is also an historical location), it is of course a waste of time and energy – but I am not capable of just letting go.

Not all is black.  Now I also know who my true friends are – and there are many!  Although they can’t do anything to change the court’s decree, their support and willingness to help give me the strength to move forward, and not just give up.  Mostly, it is emotional support, but there are also those friends who are actively helping me to look for a place, talking to people, making suggestions, and ready to assist in whatever I need.  And many people have contributed money to the relocation fund, and as most of my friends are not wealthy, it is very meaningful that they feel that we are important enough to help.  The amount is not important, it is the thought that we are important enough for them to want to help. Thank you, thank you, thank you everyone! 

I have tried over the years to produce dogs that will fill a number of purposes – to preserve the Canaan Dog, a very ancient and original breed that is disappearing rapidly now.  The preservation of ancient original species is important – here is a link to an article that explains why:

http://www.instituteofcaninebiology.org/blog/a-call-for-preservation-breeding

http://www.academia.edu/3572141/The_Canaan_Dog_Preserving_a_Biblical_Dog_in_Modern_Times

The dogs have provided innumerable things to many people – companionship, security, confidence, friendship, comfort, support…It is not chance that the dog is considered man’s best friend.  There is no other animal that has the relationship with us that the dog has, and I have over the years been able to provide dogs to people whose lives have been changed and improved through this relationship.

I have also, with my second breed, the collie, spent many years trying to provide dogs that will assist people with special needs, and am proud and fulfilled by the successes I have had.

I look into the eyes of my dogs, some of them young and just learning about the world, some of them old with years of experience, and I know that I have to go on, for them and for the people who do care about what I have been doing all these years. 

So I don’t plan for this to be the end of Shaar Hagai. I still find it very difficult to understand the difference between “law” and “justice”, but I will continue to get up in the morning, where, I don’t know, but watch for us, I hope we will go on!

Please feel free to share.

Donations:  https://www.gofundme.com/kqk2ta8s

Summing up...

Another year has come to its end. I hate endings, beginnings are much more fun.

2015 has been a very hard year for me.

The necessity for veterinary care and the expenses involved has been more than many previous years combined.   Lilo, my 12 year old Canaan girl, and the star of many of the photos I have put up in the past, decided to take on a viper that invaded her territory, not considering that she might not be quite as fast as she was in her younger days.  She was bitten on the tongue, and was for a number of days on the edge between life and death, her tongue and head swollen up terribly, unable to breathe except through a trach tube, and totally miserable.  But being a Canaan, she had no intention of giving up, came through it all, and now is in great shape, looking and acting like a five year old (though hopefully she will not meet any more snakes).  The costs of the intensive care were enough to feed all the dogs for half of the year…The vet clinic told me she was the most severe case they ever had that recovered – I am thankful for their efforts.  They also now know a lot more about the determination of a Canaan dog.

The next serious problem did not end so well. Lovely Janey, our Canaan girl from Jordan, who was loved and admired by so many, and had been such a great ambassador for the breed, was poisoned.  She was living with a friend of mine on his kibbutz, helping to guard his sheep, and was very happy, as during the day she had a lot of attention from all the kibbutz children, and at night she was doing a job she loved.  She had just whelped a litter of seven puppies, and then a few days later collapsed, and all efforts to save her were in vain.  There is a special place in hell for those who can commit an atrocity like this.  Her puppies have grown up well, with me as their mother, but nothing can take the place of Janey.  The little ones look so much like her, with her lovely eyes and expression, and sweet nature…

Emma, my little podengo bed warmer, had to have a caesarian to deliver her enormous puppy. Emma and puppy, thankfully, are fine.  Emma has now returned to warm my bed and in a few days the little wild child will go to his new home.

Chance, who last year lost her entire litter to fading puppy syndrome, went through many tests and long term treatments to try and find and cure the reason.  From her litter born in July, we were able to save three puppies.  One little girl is staying here and Chance will now be retired from breeding. Kismet, her daughter, now five months old, is showing a lot of Chance’s temperament characteristics.

And together with various other tests, treatments, and preventatives for others, 2015 has been a very profitable year for the vets.

Aside from that, we are still in court with our fight to be able to keep our home, and not be evicted.  Four years of fighting and lawyers’ fees, and still no answer….living in limbo leaves a lot to be desired…

But 2015 was certainly not all bad!

We held a very successful International Canaan Dog Conference, with many participants from abroad, and during our trip through the desert, had the amazing luck to find a litter of wild born Canaan puppies.  Little Dardar came home with us and is growing up into a lovely young dog. She lives with my granddaughter and is a constant challenge!

And it was really encouraging to see how well the Canaan is developing in other countries, the growing interest in the breed, and the lovely core of serious people devoted to these very special dogs!

I had a very successful and enjoyable week in Italy (other than it being very cold!), giving several lectures and seminars, wrapped in many layers of clothers, but very well fed.   I had a super trip to Norway to judge and then to see the European Dog Show, beautiful dogs.  And a lovely trip to the US to participate in the celebration of 50 years of the Canaan Dogs in the US. Great fun meeting many people that I have only known through Facebook and seeing many dogs that I knew only through photos. I was really happy to see the good general quality of the dogs, and the lovely temperaments as well, also the interest of the Canaan people not only in showing and breeding, but in all sorts of sports and performance competitions.  Super!  This trip also gave me the opportunity to visit my brothers and families, with children and grandchildren that I have never met before. It was a fantastic two weeks!

Three of my young collies finished their championships in style, Tawny (IsrJCh. IsrCh. Talking Point of Netiv HaAyit) with wins including a BISS2 and BISS3, his sister Topaz (IsrJCh. IsrCh. Topaz of Netiv HaAyit) gained a BISS over an entry of 40, and the smoothie, Robin (Isr.JCh. Isr.Ch. Legacy of Netiv HaAyit) also has gained two CACIBs.  Janey,(Isr.JCh.IsrCh. Bat Yarden me Dibaan Jeyni), before the tragedy that befell her, became BOB and Desert Winner at the Canaan Conference Specialty show.  Oreo, our funny black and white boy, (IsrJCh. IsrCh. Or ve Tzel me Shaar Hagai) was BOB at the Canaan Dog Specialty in France.  And little Annabella the podengo (Isr.JCh.Annabella me Shaar Hagai) became a junior champion.  There have also been various successes of Shaar Hagai dogs and their descendents abroad, both in conformation and performance.

Several of the dogs have been working this year in various therapy projects, perhaps the thing that makes me the happiest.  Dogs proving their worth to us and their ability to make our lives better – what can be better than that?

And there were puppies this year – a lot!  More than I was really expecting or planning for, but they are lovely!  Still a lot of growing to do, but I think that there will be some that will bring us a lot of joy in the coming year, in the shows rings and in other things as well.

And there is a great deal of joy in welcoming the new owners of puppies into my doggy family, and welcoming back those who have had puppies from me before and have come back for another new family member.

Most of my body is still working reasonably well, considering the mileage put in…

And of course, the pleasures of family…!

So, like every year, there was the difficult and painful, but there was also the bright and inspiring, and with hopes for a larger proportion of the latter, we begin 2016. Beginnings are fun!

 

We are ready to go!

Remember For Me

Last week, Yehuda called us. He was concerned about his dog, Polly, a smooth collie who was now over fourteen years old.  She was having discomfort getting up and walking, and preferred to sleep in her corner, and he asked if we could come to visit, see her, and give him advice.

What was special about this is that Polly was the very first dog trained as an Alzheimer’s Aid Dog, and Yehuda was the very first Alzheimer’s patient to receive one.

People suffering from Alzheimer’s and other degenerative brain damage diseases suffer loss of cognitive skills, including memory, judgment, and orientation in time, people and places.  The loss of orientation hinders their ability to get home safely, so that any time they leave home, they run the risk of getting lost.  The ability to get home becomes a major survival issue for these people.

People with Dementia and other degenerative brain diseases also feel terrible loneliness, frustration, anger and helplessness. Against their will, they are prisoners in their own homes and are dependent on others to get out.

The idea of this project was that with the help of a specially trained dog, the patient could get home by simply giving the dog the command to take them home.  This returns their freedom of movement and makes it possible for them to leave their homes without requiring the help of family members.

The dog has not only been trained to bring her owner home, but also to bring him home safely, avoiding physical obstacles such as holes, dangerous curbs, parked cars, traffic. The dog also helps give the patient stability in standing and walking – many Alzheimer’s sufferers are prone to falls.  The patient may become confused as a result of the disease, or become anxious because he is not sure how to get home, and is capable of forgetting all his pedestrian skills, so the dog is his “guardian”.

Yehuda suffered from early onset Alzheimer’s, which began when he was in his early 60’s.  He was a highly educated and very respected professional, a talented writer and translator, fluent in several languages, and involved in very important and influential work.  The diagnosis was extremely hard for him to accept. Especially during the first stages of the disease, Yehuda felt terribly lonely and anxious. He felt isolated from colleagues and also from his family.  He didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning or try to carry on a normal life style. He even resented the help of family members.

Yehuda had never been a “dog person”, and the idea of having a companion dog was very strange to him.  But the bond between him and Polly developed very quickly and very deeply.

It was necessary for Yehuda to care for his dog’s needs, so he had to get out of bed in the morning – Polly would also come to the bed and nudge and encourage him until he got up.  Caring for her and walking her helped him maintain a normal way of life, and the physical exercise of walking with her and playing with her improved his own physical fitness and health.  He also was no longer afraid of getting lost and not being able to get home – he knew that Polly would always bring him to safety.

Walking the dog also promoted contact between him and other people in his environment.  People showed an interest and curiosity about the dog with the special harness.  They begin talking more with Yehuda and interacting with him, which helped to take him out of the circle of boredom and loneliness.  In this scenario, the dog acts as an icebreaker or social integrator.

Alzheimer’s Aid Dogs become full time companions.  Polly was attentive and focused her attention on the Yehuda, his needs and his mental/physical condition at all times. When Yehuda was depressed and did not want to get out of bed, Polly played with him, pulled the blankets away from him, brought him her toys, and would not stop until Yehuda responded. Polly remained with Yehuda at night when he could not sleep.  She stayed with him while his family was engaged in other activities. Yehuda reported that he did not feel the need to phone his family as much as before, and when he was bored, he went out with the dog.  Polly was also specially trained to react to crisis situations by barking to alert help or to press a special emergency button. 

Yehuda himself said, “The dog has given me a quality of life by releasing me from the prison walls of my own home. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me…A person has no worth or existence if he doesn't belong to a social community. A person without a companion is empty. The most important aspect of this project is not just getting me safely home which is very important, but to allow me to be socially active. To go with Polly to friends and acquaintances… now there is no fear whether I'll be back home safe or not. With Polly there is no pressure."

We have been involved with Yehuda and Polly from the start of the project. We felt the tremendous bond that grew between them, and the total devotion of Polly and her desire to do everything she could for Yehuda.  She learned many things that were not part of her training, but part of her day to day life with her partner.

There were many and varied stages in Yehuda’s condition. There were times when he was affected quite severely and was almost unable to communicate, and there were times when he was very lucid and clear, and was able to write and work at his translations, and participate in family life.  Polly was always at his side.

It had been about a year since our last visit to Yehuda and Polly.  He had been suffering from additional physical disabilities, and we were worried that his condition might be deteriorating.  As we drove up to his house and were greeted by his wife, we were not sure what the situation would be.

We spent several hours with Yehuda and Polly, and I still find it almost impossible to describe my feelings.  For several hours, we carried on a conversation with an articulate, talented, intellectual man, who was able to remember his past and tell us many stories about his life, discuss current affairs, and behave in a completely normal manner.  Anyone meeting him would never believe that he was an Alzheimer’s sufferer.  His physical condition was also improved – he was consciously working on methods to improve his body function, and was succeeding. He was fully aware of his condition, and told us that at times he would “lose” himself, but his determination not to give up on his life brought him back from these darker periods.

Yehuda is a unique and special person, who was not willing to give in to his disease, and fought with all his strength to hold on to his abilities, and he has succeeded to an unbelievable extent.  But he attributes a great deal of his success to Polly – she would not let him sink into despair and apathy, she and her devotion kept him going.  His doctors agree.

But now Yehuda’s concerns were for his beloved Polly.  He was totally aware of the situation, but he had been a fighter all his life, and he was ready now to do whatever he could for his dear friend.  We could see that she was indeed suffering from old age. Although she still desired to stay at Yehuda’s side and to continue to watch over him, her body was failing her in many ways.  There was little to do except to keep her as comfortable as possible.  We and Yehuda knew what was inevitable.

A few days later, Polly fell into her last sleep, as always at Yehuda’s side.

She will be remembered as the first dog to prove that this project was possible and valuable.  There are others following in her footsteps, helping other Alzheimer’s patients and their families.  Yehuda will not have another dog, but we believe that Polly will always remain in his memory.

Italy Part 2

The first night in Italy, we spent in the home of Isabella’s father.  His house was in the outskirts of Parma, so it was a short drive from the train station.  The night was very dark, with a bit of rain, and it was quite cold, certainly not what I had been expecting.  We drove through dark narrow country lanes, like passing through tunnels of thick green foliage, the only visibility provided by the cone of the car headlights ahead.

We turned in to an even smaller lane, with the tree branches reaching over and the greenery caressing the car as we passed, until we reached an iron gate. This gate looked like the gate of the old mansion in ghost movies, with nothing visible except the foliage which was drooping over the lane and draped over the gate.  A bit beyond was the shadowy shape of a building.

It was hard in the dark to get an impression of the house, other than that it was very large and seemed to be very classically Italian.  But once we got inside – it was a true Italian palazzo!  Not huge, but many spacious rooms, spotless and perfectly decorated, with furniture that looked to my not very experienced eyes as if it should be in a museum.  An elegant and narrow staircase spiraled up to the bedroom floor, as immaculate as below.  Isabella’s father, a very elegant and charming man, was perfectly fitted to his surroundings.

In the morning, I could see the lovely countryside all around, green and lush, as we left for Isabella’s house, about an hour or so drive away.  Tuscany is a wonderful area, it was easy to see why it was so popular with visitors and celebrities (even George Clooney has a house in the town near Isabella’s house – sadly, he wasn’t at home…).

Isabella’s house is not an Italian palazzo.  It is a small house in the middle of a very quiet part of the village where there is a bit of home agriculture – vegetable gardens, a few cows and horses…The neighbors all around are friendly and quick with a greeting (something which I have found to be true in all of Italy), and several of them still believe that the best method of communication is the human voice, at high volume, to be heard over distance.  Isabella had to explain to me at first that her neighbor was not yelling at her, that was just the way he talked…

The first thing met at her house, after hiking a few hundred meters up a rather steep incline – the car can’t be parked next to the house – are cats. Isabella has a lot of cats that have decided that she is their principal provider.  They hang out around the house, especially on the porch, frequently reminding her that the food dish is empty, and are perfectly willing to share in the dogs’ food as well when the opportunity presents itself.  Some of the cats are special friends of particular dogs, and come to sleep with them. They are allowed into the house in the hallway, and the door is usually open.  However, to prevent them going upstairs to the bedroom, Isabella has invented a cat barricade – a wire basket sort of thing that is the width of the stairs and is balanced precariously on the edge of a stair half way up. If cats try to get over this, it falls, making a big clatter and scattering the cats in all directions.  The cats have learned that they can’t climb over it, so they stay away from the stairs.  I had to learn to step very carefully over this barrier whenever I wanted to get to the bedroom or bathroom. I am very proud that I only knocked it down two or three times while I was there!

The living room-dining room, on the main floor, which is also Isabella’s work room, is first of all a dog room.  There are many dogs that live there.  The sofas are lumpy and old, and have developed a shape that is very conducive for dogs to curl up in, or for a person to sink into and be unable to get out of.  Puppies have a pen here, so that they can spend all their time with people and other dogs, and there are crates, each dog knowing his own, and when he can be in, and when he can be out.  Nothing is expensive or elegant, an approach that I understand very well – this way it is possible to enjoy the company of the dogs without worrying about the furniture.  My furniture has also always been of this sort…

In the back there is a fenced yard, where all the dogs get a chance to be out for some hours several times a day, and to bark at the cow of the neighbor.

Upstairs, it is possible to see the influence of Isabella’s father.  The bedrooms, bathroom, and hall are clean and orderly, and there is even one special elegant antique chair – which is not to be sat on. This is the territory of people, not dogs. I think it is usually the territory of guests, Isabella often sleeps downstairs on the sofa with the dogs…

The dogs were all very enthusiastic to see me, especially Tutti, who climbed on my lap and asked, “Is it time for me to come back to Israel now?”, and Ziva and Calimero who vied for my attention.  Every evening when we came back from the day’s activities, I had to spend some time saying goodnight to them, or they would refuse to settle down and go to sleep.

The first day there, I went with Isabella to complete various arrangements for the upcoming workshops and seminars.  The venue was lovely, an agro-tourism location, which had a horse stable, some guest rooms, and a wonderful restaurant (I am still dreaming about the food).  We also went to the nearby village to do some shopping.  It was like going back in time – small family grocery shops, where everyone came everyday to buy fresh food for the day’s meals, everything paid in cash, shelves with about five hundred different kinds of pasta, and many different kinds of sauce, and much more fresh produce.  Everyone knows one another, talks, passes the time of day, no one is in a hurry…No traffic in the village, everything quiet and peaceful, people sitting outside enjoying the sun, and everything spotlessly clean.  And of course, the wonderful scenery in the background…So lovely!

The next day was a grooming workshop presented by Mia Ejerstad, probably the best groomer and handler in Europe and an outstanding teacher. I would be participating in her workshops the next weekend, giving lectures on dog behavior, but this one I was able to observe.  As it was specially for collies, border collies, and Australian shepherds, it was a great pleasure to watch and learn new things, and meet new people.  And the food…!!!

There is no way that I can talk about Italy without talking about the food.  I am not talking about gourmet food and fancy restaurants, in my nearly two weeks there, I never ate in a fancy restaurant, only in people’s homes and in simple country restaurants.  And everywhere, the food was wonderful – simple, but full of taste, and healthy.  I have always loved Italian food, but this time – amazing!

On Sunday, we had our daylong seminar on the Canaan Dog.  In addition to the Italians, there were participants from Germany, Czech Republic, and France, several with their dogs.  The atmosphere was lovely, and despite the language differences, everyone seemed to understand my talks and to be able to communicate with one another. It was great to meet people I had until now only known from internet communication, and to also see old friends.  I am so happy to see the growing and serious interest in the breed, and the willingness of people to make an effort to come and understand them better.

The only problem was the weather.  It was sunny but very cold!  Everyone agreed that it should not be like this in Italy at the end of May, but it was definitely not what I had planned for when packing.  I had to dress in layers of summer clothes on top of one another…maybe I have started a new fashion trend…

With the first seminar over, I now had the week to relax (relatively).  Isabella and I had made some plans, and also there were preparations for the workshop/seminar that would be held the next weekend.

And there was La Spezia….

Coming up in Italy Part 3…

Tutti - "Can we go back to Israel now?"

Italy Part 1

I had been looking forward for several months to my trip to Italy.  This was the first time in years that I would be away from home for more than a few days.  In the last years, my only trips abroad were to judge, and then they involved one day travelling each way and two days judging in the middle.  I do enjoy these judging trips as it is always fascinating to see dogs in other countries, but they are certainly not a vacation. But with this trip to Italy, I would have two weekends of “work” – giving seminars – and the whole week between would be a vacation!  Wow!

I even had a flight at a normal hour – in the middle of the day, meaning I would not have to be at the airport in the middle of the night, and I would also arrive at a reasonable hour.  I was flying on EasyJet, my first experience with this airline.  The problem was their restriction to one piece of cabin baggage of a certain size.  Since I had to have my laptop and projector for the seminars, I would have to take a regular suitcase, not just a carry-on.  But since I would be away for almost two weeks, it was nice to have plenty of space for clothes, and to add several books that I was bringing.

I got to the airport and checked in. My suitcase was 22 kilo, to my surprise.  It was the addition of the books, as it was far from full. And even though it had wheels, it was still heavy!  And I had my backpack with the laptop and a few other essentials.  And a supply of sandwiches – one of the characteristics of the economy flight is that food is not provided – either you buy it en route for a hefty price, or you carry your own.  I carried.

EasyJet was very efficient, and the flight was surprisingly comfortable, with excellent cabin crew. We landed on time, I collected by suitcase without problems.  My good friend Isabella who would be hosting me had given me precise instructions - first to take the airport shuttle bus from Terminal 2, where I had landed, to Terminal 1, and from there to take the train to Milano Centrale.  From there I could take another train to meet my hostess.  It seemed easy enough.

I exited the terminal, looking for the shuttle.  There were many buses lined up there, to many destinations, included buses to Milano Centrale.  But being quite an obedient type, since I was told to take, the shuttle bus, that is what I would do. 

After walking back and forth in the bus parking area, finally I was directed to the shuttle to Terminal 1.  The other buses that I had seen were normal buses, with a compartment underneath to put luggage.  The shuttle bus – which one would assume was intended for people travelling – had no luggage compartment at all.  I had to drag my suitcase up the steep stairs into the bus, which was small and crowded, and try to find a place where it would not block the other people getting on or off, a pretty impossible task. 

At least it was a short drive to Terminal 1.  I dragged my suitcase off the bus, found the train station, got my ticket.  It was possible to buy only the ticket to Milano Centrale, the next ticket I could only buy when I got there.  The train was not at all crowded, there was a place for the suitcase, and very few stations. In an hour I had arrived at Milano Centrale.

Milano Centrale still appears to me in my nightmares.

Milano Centrale is a huge station.  There are very many tracks, and the Malpensa Express from the airport arrives on a track at the very far end of the station.  So now, dragging my suitcase, I had to proceed from the arrival point into the station to find the place to buy my ticket to my next destination.  There are kilometers of very modern shops, spread out on several floors accessible with ramps and stairs, (I was told afterwards that there are elevators, but I never saw one), and I think that I traversed all of them looking for the ticket sales. Asking people was not a great help, as most, though very polite, did not know English and I didn’t know the Italian word for tickets.  The police officer stationed there waved me vaguely in the direction of the opposite end of the station, of course down many more stairs and ramps.  I was getting very tired…

Finally, I did find the ticket area.  There were a number of desks with clerks sitting at them, a number of empty desks, and a lot of people that seemed to be just casually standing around.  I looked around to see who I had to approach, and was directed to a machine from which it was necessary to take a number.  I got the number 389, and then I was pointed to an electronic sign board which indicated which numbers could step up to the desks.  The next number being called was 165!!!!  Could it be possible that there were more than two hundred people ahead of me???? Yes, indeed it was!

I stood there in despair.  Obviously, my distress showed, and a man who was waiting for his turn asked me – in English! – “Why don’t you get a ticket from the automatic machine?”  Well, several reasons – one, I don’t really trust these machines, two, I wasn’t sure how to work them, and three, the instructions were all in Italian….”OK, I help you,” he offered.

We went over to the machine, and he asked me where I was going.  My brain at this point was in neutral from exhaustion and being bombarded by Italian all around me.  I tried to concentrate and remember where I was going….started with a “P”…yes, Pisa!

My helper punched in the details, put in my payment, and I was rather surprised at how much it cost – this was a lot more than what Isabella had told me.  But there was no time to think, the train was leaving in ten minutes and the track was, of course, two flights of stairs up and at the other end of the station.  Seeing that I was starting to panic, my helper grabbed my suitcase and started running to the train, with me stumbling along behind him trying to keep up.  We got to the train with about two minutes to spare, I reached for my suitcase, and my Samaritan announced, “Now you need to give me something for helping you…”

Well, no time to argue…I pulled out 10 Euro, grabbed my suitcase, and dragged it on to the train.

As I looked around trying to find a seat and place to put my suitcase, I had the feeling that I had gone 100 years back in time.  The train looked like something from an old spy movie.  The whole car was made up of separate glassed in compartments, each compartment with a door, and six seats inside.  There were narrow racks above the seats for possessions.  I walked down the aisle looking for a free seat, and fortunately asked another passenger, who explained to me that my ticket had the car number, the compartment number, and the seat number on it.  Of course, the car I was in was the wrong one, so dragging my suitcase I wandered through the train looking for the right number. Finally, I found it, got my seat, with my suitcase pressed against my legs – there was very little space between the seats in the compartment, which were in two rows facing each other.  The train began to move, and I started to relax.

Milano has a number of stations, and the train stopped at them all, and then it seemed we were out of the city area.  I had no idea how many stops there would be or how long it would take to get to Pisa, so I decided that it would be good to ask another traveler for some information. There was a well dressed businessman sitting opposite me, and I asked him if he knew what time we would get to Pisa.  About three and a half hours, he answered, the train would go through Genoa first….

My brain was starting to work again, and I began to feel a bit worried. This definitely did not sound right!  The cost of the ticket was much more than Isabella had said, and the time was much longer – Isabella had told me that it was about an hour from Milano…I dug into my backpack, where everything including my laptop was stuffed in, as on EasyJet we were allowed only one hand bag, and found the piece of paper with Isabella’s instructions.  And there was the destination I should be going to – Parma!  Well, yes, with a “P”, and famous – Pisa for the tower and Parma for the cheese…

Now serious panic set in!  What should I do???? Thank goodness for cell phones!  I called Isabella and tried to explain to her that I was on a train to Pisa…

After the first shock, we figured out where I was – by opening my GPS app on the cell phone.  The plan – I had to get off at the next station, go back to Milano, and then take the train to Parma.

The next station was tiny and deserted. Of course, I had to drag the suitcase down the stairs, buy a new ticket back to Milano and then to Parma, drag the suitcase up the stairs to the opposite platform, and wait for the next train.  I have become an expert on stairs in Italian train stations – very long and steep.  When I got back to Milano (not to Milano Centrale, thank goodness, but to the station before), it was already about 20:30, there were few trains, very few people around, and even the toilets were locked for the night. I had to wait about an hour for the train – of course, I had to change platforms and go down and up the stairs again…(I know, everyone tells me there is an elevator…)

I have to say that people throughout were very nice, polite and kind, tried to answer my questions, and there was even a woman who helped me with my suitcase on the stairs.  (Please note – suitcases have wheels these days, yes, but the wheels are no good on the stairs of a train station). 

But I was really, really happy to get off the train in Parma and see Isabella waiting for me there with Olga the bracco, who was bored by the whole thing…

Milano Centrale