Some Meditations on the Dogs of the Homeless

In my many interactions with and observations of Oregon's homeless crisis over the recent years, dogs have played a major role in the lives of homeless people. Everywhere I went I met homeless people and their beloved dogs. Rural, suburban and urban, it was the same story. If the homeless person was near a grocery store, I purchased dry and wet food for his/her dog, and of course, treats. It was a great way to break the ice with a stranger and get to know the story of the dog, and then, the stranger. Those dogs meant everything to these people; they were lifelines and they showed me that the homeless person still cared, still emitted light, and thus, had something remaining within the spirit that could later be tapped to make a transition out of homelessness, providing the dog could accompany the person into housing.

Not once did I encounter a dangerous one, although I know of at least one mauling of a Portland jogger by a dog living in a homeless encampment.

Years ago, a girlfriend turned me on to a book About Looking, by John Berger, and it included an arresting passage about humans relationships to their pets: The pet (dog) completes him, offering responses to aspects of his character which would otherwise be unconfirmed. He can be to his pet what he is not to anybody or anything else. Furthermore, the pet can be conditioned to react as though it too, recognizes this. The pet offers its owner a mirror to a part that is otherwise never reflected.

I've never read a truer sentence about dogs and their owners, and it especially rings true with the homeless people with dogs I meet. Perhaps we all look into our dog's face and see who we really want to be. As for the dog owners who inflict cruelty upon their pets, they are too far gone and black at heart to see anything. They are blind. These terrible human faces are easy to recognize. You see them on television all the time, in the highest corridors of American power and greed.

Berger also claims humankind's first metaphor was an animal, probably a dog, because dogs were our first companions, and this bond developed long before we acquired language. Berger also writes: “The animal (dog) has secrets which, unlike the secrets of caves, mountains, seas, are specifically addressed to man.”

Very true!

Since I am on the subject of dogs, meet Elmer, my new pet, a husky mix almost two years old. I adopted him from the Multnomah County Animal Shelter for $25 on a cold weekday morning in late December. When we first met in a yard, he was indifferent toward me and seemed scared and nervous. He'd been at the shelter for three months and was clearly shell shocked.

He didn't want to get in my car, but finally, with some assistance by a shelter staffer, we got him inside and I drove him home as we listened to the jazz station.

It was a deeply emotional moment adopting this dog. I had been dogless for almost seven years after putting down my beloved husky Sonny, my boon companion of almost 17 years, during a personal crisis of catastrophic proportions, that oddly enough, eventually led me to write about the homeless, see them from a totally different perspective, and want to help them as much as I can.

I thought I'd never have the desire or wherewithal to have another dog after Sonny died, but one morning, I walked the neighborhood in the early morning and knew it was time to liberate a dog from prison to help me get off my ass and kick out the jams.

After bringing Elmer home, I showed him around the house and yard. I fed him a meal and he devoured it. We took our first walk around the neighborhood and he pulled a bit on the leash.

He has yet to make his unique howl that all huskies have. It will come in time.

I celebrated the first night with my new dog with a good bottle of wine.

In the morning, it was still dark and we walked for several miles. Three hours later, I took him to a fenced dog park and watched him gallop and play with a couple of dogs.

That evening I fried up some steaks for Elmer. My favorite American writer of all time, Jim Harrison, wrote: “There is something about doing a favor for a dog that calms a person down.”

Very true. And I see the calming effects dogs have on homeless people.

My life will radically change with this dog. I am ready for change. I needed something to smash the stasis I've been feeling. Elmer the husky will certainly do that. I also know when we walk together, we'll encounter homeless people and their dogs and that will provide a new entry point into my interactions with these struggling people. Dogs are the way in. We'll talk dogs first, people next, then take it from there.