“It must be dawn,” I think as the flash-frames of my dreamy sub-conscious melt away. Close to my ear, I hear the plop of two paws and a squeak that serves as my wake-up call compliments of Soozi, our jet black cazadora (hunter.) Soozi is always the first to awake in the pre-dawn grey. Though she knows that she’s not to disturb me until full daylight. Often I hear the “click, click” of her nails as she walks across the wood floor followed by the swish of the doggie-door screen when she steps out to the balcony from our bedroom. She’ll quietly sit in one of the patio chairs until she deems it is time for me to get up.
Some days, she’ll give me notice and then let me snooze for another 15 minutes or so. Eventually, there is no respite from her insistence that I get dressed and go for a walk. Meanwhile Pinta rises out of her bed (a blanket-lined laundry basket placed next to the closet) and saunters over to the Turkish rug laying next to M’s bedside. She’ll languorously stretch “downward dog” style and then engage in some vigorous self-grooming.
Though Pinta and Soozi are from the same litter, their personalities and appearance are poles apart. Soozi was the runt of 6 but has more sustained energy than most dogs. When she, Pinta and Salty (our first dog and brother from the same litter) were 8 weeks old, we took them to a vet at the border for an inoculation. I sat in the back seat next to a huge cardboard box filled with shavings as the three of them bounced off the sides at the excitement of their first car ride. After 20 minutes, Pinta and Salty drifted off to sleep while Soozi spent the hour long trip trying to climb out of the box. While I spent the hour, corralling her.
The Girls, as M and I call them, came to live with us almost 2 years ago. We had lost their brother, Salty, to a wild animal attack a few months before. With their previous owner (our neighbor Jorge), they each had a rudimentary dog house made of packing crate walls, a corrugated tin roof and dirt floor. They were well-treated by Tico standards and living a typical rural, Tico dog life. While Salty was alive, Pinta and Soozi often came down the road to play with him. After Salty's death, The Girls continued to visit us regularly, stopping for a pet, sometimes a nap on our breezy terrace before continuing on through our property to their hunting playground.
The adjustment to living with us was relatively easy. For the first few weeks, they weren’t interested in coming into the house. Instead we placed the two dog beds from Salty on the terrace downstairs. At first, they were hesitant to step on the dog beds but once they understood the comfort factor, they napped in newfound luxury. While Pinta was recovering from her near fatal snake bite, we moved the dog beds inside. In her weakened state, we were fearful that the coyotes would sniff out her vulnerable state and attack. Pinta was in no shape to protest and Soozi, the ever attentive companion stayed by Pinta’s side. Quickly appreciating the benefits of sleeping inside, they eventually expanded their nap venues to patio chairs, laundry baskets and gravity chairs. One time, I found Pinta snuggled up against the pillows in our guest bedroom. As I admonished her, her look was as if to say, “I see you doing it all the time.” They know better than to get up on our beds but just the other day, I found Soozi tangled up in the mosquito net over our bed looking very sheepish when I discovered her.
Pinta has beautiful markings. Her big brown eyes outlined in kohl black like Cleopatra framed by her face, the color of golden sand. She has very expressive eyebrows and widens her eyelids to show just a little bit of white when she’s trying to melt my resolve. Using her looks to her advantage, she firmly believes that the rules don’t apply to her. Being fawned over by almost every person who meets her, like a diva, Pinta believes that the universe revolves around her. Soozi, was thin and wiry when she came here, having had to compete for food with Pinta. She tends to anxiousness and a need to please. Soozi is our sentinel. She spends hours at various places on our balconies and terrace surveying the property while Pinta lazes and snoozes. Soozi’s loyalty and attentiveness is unwavering whereas Pinta is off like a shot into the forest without hesitation when she sniffs an alluring scent. Pinta is beagle and bloodhound mix through and through. At times, she appears to be in a dead sleep, then suddenly she’ll jump to her feet and in a second be racing down the property announcing with her full-throated 200 db baying that “the hunt is afoot.” Soozi happily joins in on these spontaneous forays while emitting a series of high-pitched yips. During the day, we allow them to roam freely through the forest. With such high energy, they need to run off steam otherwise they’d pace around inside all night. Our dogs have a mixed-bag reputation with the neighbors. Pinta and Soozi are admired for their athleticism and fearless tracking that ranges across great swaths of thick jungle forest. Pinta’s repeated howl can be heard at least a mile away. On the few occasions that we let them out at night, sometimes our neighbors get a nasty jolt awake from her mega decibel howl nearby.
We allow them to roam because keeping them tied up would be cruel. Short of erecting a fence that extended at least a foot into the ground, there’s little way that we would contain them in an enclosure. Not only are they enthusiastic trackers, they are avid diggers. Iguanas lay their eggs in deep nests underground. I’ve observed The Girls furiously dig away at the red earth until they’ve burrowed a tunnel where only their rear haunches and flagstaff tails are visible. During this excavation process, they take turns at the task alternately diving deep and coming up for an occasional breath of air accompanied by loud barks of excitement.
I can’t really say that I take them for a walk when it’s their bursting morning energy propelling me up the road. Many mornings, I will open the sliding door that leads to the 2nd floor entry landing where they will skitter out in excitement to wait for departure. Though I can’t always trust that Pinta will still be around when I’m ready to go. If she gets a sniff of an interesting scent, her most basic instinct compels her to race into the undergrowth to investigate.
Our morning walks together serve two purposes, first, it is my small attempt to keep them safe from wild animal encounters. Salty and Pinta were attacked (I should rightly say that their inexperienced canine tracking brain led them into harm’s way) early in the morning. Secondly, I need the exercise, especially since I am in “dry dock.” I have not been in the water since last August and will not return until at least April when my eye will be fully healed after my next and hopefully final surgery this March.
There is a choice of routes for our walks. Our neighborhood road is about 2.5 km long consisting of loose gravel and rock ballast. Accessed at the main road that connects the pueblo of Conte to the coast, our neighborhood road climbs along a ridge line of hills and ends in a palm plantation. There are a few homes that sit close to the road and several lanes branch off to lead to properties like ours. If we walk east along the neighborhood road heading down to the main road, we travel over mostly even gravel with a few mild hills. At a high point in this walk, the vista opens with rolling pasture expanding out to a distant view to the east of Baru Volcano n Panamá. Baru is an active volcano with a distinctive peak jutting up in the Talamanca range that extends from central Costa Rica into Panamá. If we walk from our lane in the opposite direction up towards the palm farm, I have a lovely view of the Talamanca mountains with their mist covered slopes that remind of me of depictions in Chinese scroll paintings.
Walking up towards the palm plantation, we pass by Spike’s house who comes dashing out on his 4” legs with the authority and bravura of a dog 10 times his size. Spike thinks that he’s Don Juan. Though he’s 1/4 the size of The Girls, he can’t resist a chance to jump them. Pinta sharply snaps at him making herself clear that she’ll not tolerate his behaviour. Soozi rebuffs him politely by simply sitting down until he gets the hint. He huffs and snorts as he races around them on his tiny legs trying to get their attention. Undeterred by their lack of interest, he joins us as we walk up the road to Crispin’s rental properties that feature a lovely pool.
Lately, my preferred route is a steep climb up a neighbor’s lane that culminates on a high ridge commanding a spectacular, panoramic view of the Golfo Dulce. Past this lane's entry gate, the 60’ trees form a leafy canopy over the road filtering the morning light with a soft green tone. I stop at the bridge for a minute to listen to the babbling of the creek. Pinta, usually on the leash, doesn’t allow me the time to sit on the bench that overlooks the brook. Her enthusiastic energy pulls me up the incline as I dig the treads of my boots deep into the sometimes loose gravel. When I take a brief break from watching for slippery rocks, I catch the color flash of wild flowers at the side of the lane.
Of the lots that are accessible from this lane, there are only two developed. Our dear friends live full-time in Alta Vista. We have enjoyed many a sunset from their deck looking across the Golfo to the Pacific Ocean as MJ strums his guitar. The other property is what I call “The Behemoth.” This 12,000+ sf, 3 story structure has a checkered history from the owners’ unconventional approach to construction, to the neighbors’ unhappiness with loud music, to the municipal inspectors’ questionable actions. Construction stopped and the owners left about 10 months ago and its future is in question.
The story goes that the owners plan to open a yoga retreat. They have a lot of work ahead to achieve that goal.
My goal in hiking there every morning is to gain some cardio work (2.2 km round trip and similar to climbing 18 floors.) My reward is better health and gazing across the stupendous panorama of the Golfo from the steps of the Behemoth. I drink in the meteorological moods across this landscape starting at the Talamanca range to the east with a slice of the half crescent moon of Zancudo Beach in the foreground to the distant north shore over 25 kms away, across to the west where the ridge line of the Osa Peninsula defines the land from the Pacific sky. The exposed rock cliff at the southern tip of the Osa points to the mouth of the Golfo Dulce as if to say, “Here is the place.”
We don’t pass Spike’s house when we walk to the Behemoth. Many mornings, Pinta announces her presence to the neighborhood with her baying barks and making all this racket, perks up Spike. Chasing her siren song, he races down the road to joins us.
Soozi, who I leave off leash, usually is walking a short distance ahead of Pinta and me. Spike comes barreling past us, like a low-flying black barrel, his round body pumped forward on his tiny legs. I and my merry band of 4-legged companions with their flagstaff tails tick-tocking excitedly enjoy our daily hike. On our return home, Spike follows us for a short distance but at a certain point, he stops, watches for a minute then turns back towards his home.
Upon our return home, The Girls sit patiently on the terrace for breakfast to be served. I fill their bowls with dog food and a splash of sunflower oil (otherwise Soozi will not eat.) She has fussy food habits. Pinta will hoover down anything that is placed in front of her and if Soozi walks away from her dish, Pinta will vacuum up a 2nd breakfast. Pinta has a fondness for ripe plantains and sometimes will steal one from the bunches that ripen under the kitchen landing. My treat is a hot cup of Costa Rican blend coffee freshly brewed by M and the enjoyment of a new day gently unfolding before us.
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