Dogs in Spain do not enjoy the same pampered lives that many dogs here do. We first became aware of the Galgo issue through Greyhound Friends in Hopkinton, MA. The director, Louise Coleman had just founded the American European Greyhound Alliance with a special focus on the dogs of Spain and Ireland. She had begun to bring some dogs out of those two countries.
At the time, we had just lost our beautiful greyhound, Luna, and we wanted to adopt an older dog. That is how we came across Gordita (above), who was ten-years old and had just delivered another litter in Spain. Gordie lived to be 17-years old, and was the most endearing and maddening dog ever. She had a bark that could cut glass. Literally make you jump out of your skin. She had this wonderful, galumphing, paddling run that she kept up until about a week before she died.
Because of Gordie, I learned more than I wanted to about the sadistic treatment of these beautiful, sensitive dogs. They are used for hunting by the gypsies, and cruelly disposed of if they do not perform or if they are too old or ill.
Many people think we should not try to save dogs or cats or children outside our own borders. I find that argument specious. Compassion and love are not contained by the borders of a country. We should help wherever we can, and wherever we are drawn to help. Over the years, I have rescued cats from Russia and Mexico, dogs from Spain. I remember being in Tijuana and seeing a skeletal, mangy, white dog near the place where the ugly fence that divides Mexico and the US runs into the sea. We could not catch him. I can still see him. I had to let him go.
I learned something there about the limits of power. About accepting that I personally cannot save everything. That rankles, at the same time I know it is reasonable. But I will always try.