At my first location, or technically my second-ish, there was a mother dog and five puppies living in a trash heap outside of where I worked. The trash heap had razor wire all over it and there was a big pipe-laying ditch next to the heap that the puppies would fall into and we’d go in and pull them out of.
Gradually, Mama Dog, as we called her, and her puppies became friendlier towards us. There may have been food involved.
If she saw me walking alone, Mama Dog would run up to me and just walk with me. She was very smart, as most Afghan dogs have to be, but I was also so surprised at how gentle and friendly she was to us. She definitely seemed to prefer me, probably because I was female. Afghans are not typically kind to dogs so not only was I not dressed like an Afghan, I didn’t smell like one, but I was also not the typical gender and I think those likely played a factor.
Anyway, we realized that these puppies and Mama Dog were not going to have long, happy lives here. There are all kinds of dangers to Afghan dogs. They might not get enough food, they might be hit by a car, if they were caught on the flight line they’d be shot, or a cruel Afghan might hurt them just to hurt us.
Fortunately, we were able to get all five puppies, now named Lucky, Chase, Sophia, Copper, and Bear, and Mama Dog, now called Scarlet, out of the country and to America where their new homes were waiting for them.
Today I am thankful for the Puppy Rescue Mission.