Good Story or Bad Story?

Recently, two very different but quite incredible stories have surfaced. You want the good one or the bad one first? I'll start with the good...

This past week in San Miguel, I had Mallory (one of the Peace Corps Volunteers) stay with me for the week while she worked with the RCP teachers here in San Miguel. (The Roving Caregivers Program is an educational program offered in remote villages to provide young children {8 mos-3 years} early childhood stimulation and teach some English so that the transition into primary school is smoother)

After we had both finished for the day on Tuesday, I decided to borrow a bike for Mallory and the two of us took off for 'Tiger Cave' . I had been taken to Tiger Cave by a local back in November and took Aubrey there when she visited at Christmas time.

It is not a tourist cave..in fact, it is pretty much all unbridled territory that few venture. One would NEVER find their way to the cave had they not been taken there and paid very close attention. Ask Aubrey...just getting there is an adventure (Not to mention a long bike hike!)

So Mallory and I set out and three dogs came with us...mine is Blackie and then there are two others that belong to the neighbors here but they spend all their time at my house. Their names are Mickey and Sleepy. I'm especially fond of Mickey.

We finally arrive dripping with perspiration (nothing new about that) The dogs drank from the river we had to traverse before finding the hidden path that leads to the entrance of the cave as we drank from our bottles. There was a tremendous drop in the temperature as we hiked along the path through jungle vegetation into the rainforest leading up to the cave. The cooler temperatures felt refreshing.

The whole time the three dogs were enjoying the adventure, running alongside our bikes on the way and now navigating through the difficult terrain approaching the mouth of the cave. Mallory is also loving the adventure.

I'm feeling rather gallant in my trailblazing prowess. Mallory, who is 23 years old and played Division I soccer, is impressed by the experience while keeping up with athletic ease. The five of us enter the cave.

We are immediately divebombed by bats that I'm sure aren't trying to hit us but several brush us as we duck and try to avoid the collisions. I lead her through narrow openings and climb treacherous rock. Treacherous because it is steep but also because of the dripping water in the cold, damp, dark cave making our footing quite slippery. The dogs decide they can't make it so they stop at one point and start howling for our return. Minutes later, they conquer their fear and now we are five again.

After spending nearly an hour negotiating through the cave, I decide we better start heading back. It will be dark in an hour and I am responsible for this young whippersnapper. The dogs are having a more difficult time going DOWN through the narrow crevices but manage with a little coaxing and gentle shoves. All except Sleepy. He decides he can't do it. We had experienced their reluctance many times already so we kept going knowing he would get over his fear and just come. Come on now...these are Mayan dogs in their element. We get out of the cave with Blackie and Mickey...still no Sleepy. We call for him and we just hear his howling.

I decide that we have to go back and try to get Sleepy. Just then, Mallory spots him up on a ledge that has to be 60 to 70 ft above us and off to the right. We go back inside the cave and try to climb to him. At one point, there's a tier that I don't think I can get up on. I ask Mallory to try and she is able. She gets close to Sleepy and tries to persuade him to come close enough so she can grab him and try to pull him. He is not budging. I attempt to get up upon the ledge and make it. I finally climb to Sleepy and am able to persuade him to come close enough that I can grab him and pull him down through the narrow crevice to a lower landing. Now it seems to us that it will be smooth sailing...

We get down to the next 'easier' pass through the rock and Mickey and Blackie manage fine. Sleepy freaks out and runs off and heads straight back up to the 70 foot high ledge. At this point, I'm frustrated, it's 5:31, going to be dark soon, and I know that Sleepy has seen how to get down the especially difficult pass. I tell Mallory that we need to go and that I'm sure Sleepy will find his way out.

We get out of the cave and look back and up and see Sleepy standing on the high ledge. He is howling. I call to him one last time but to no avail. We leave and return to San Miguel. I am feeling certain that he will be on my doorstep the next morning.

We wake up Wednesday morning and no Sleepy. Damn! I have to go into PG for a meeting at 10 so I catch the 7 am bus. Guilt is setting in. How could I abandon that dog? The cave is called 'Tiger Cave' because the legend is that a jaguar tried jumping from one high ledge (where Sleepy was) to another and missed and fell to his death the 60-70 feet below...right where we had been ducking from the bats... I envision Sleepy howling all night and drawing attention to himself from any one of the known predators...especially the jaguars...they could be feasting right now...

I arrive back in San Miguel on the 4 o'clock bus...I immediately ask Mallory is she would mind staying one extra night and that maybe tomorrow after 'work', we could go back to the cave and try to get Sleepy. She is good with that. I head over to my garden and Sleepy's owner walks over (never met him before) and asks if I had seen Sleepy since he knows how the dog is always over here?? “No, I've been in PG all day and haven't seen him”, I didn't lie. I felt that 'guilt' was written all over my face, though!

Thursday, after Mallory and I were both done with our 'duties', we headed back to the cave. Whereas I had left the cave two days ago KNOWING that Sleepy would manage to get out, now I'm fairly certain that since he has not returned, he is probably dead. I pack my backpack with provisions that would have made an Eagle Scout confident...rope, headlamps, matches, candles, tools for burying, tools for carrying, splints for mending, and Bob's hunting knife for the jaguar??? We talk the whole way there about scenarios we may encounter and what we do in each case. Finally, Mallory suggests that we talk about something else as she is mortified...good idea.

The ride there was fast...we were on a mission...the negotiating the trails leading to the cave was fast...we had purpose.. We approached the mouth of the cave and didn't hear a thing. All of a sudden, Sleepy must have heard us and he started his pathetic howl. He was ALIVE! He was still perched on the ledge up high. We entered the cave and climbed up to him. We were able to tie the rope around his neck and even though he resisted every inch of the way, Mallory was able to pull him down as I pushed him from behind. Once he was committed to the fall, his footing somehow miraculously became sure.

We were hoping that Sleepy would just run home ahead of us but no, he was glued to us. We lingered for hours to wait until dark so we would have less explaining to do when we approached the village. I rehearsed many alibis which Mallory told me were all totally unacceptable. I was only allowed one word answers.

We rode into San Miguel in the pitch black hoping to be unnoticed. Didn't happen. We get near my house and Sleepy's owner sees Sleepy and me and says, “Miss Tracy, Sleepy's back!” I heed Mallory's advice and say, “Yeah!” No more was said.

So Sleepy is alive and well and on a rope outside his home and I'm sure, 'forbidden' to visit Miss Tracy. For that matter, Mickey is roped up also which is something that you never see in the village. At night, the three dogs can be heard howling to one another about their adventure in the cave. Blackie and I are alone in the house wondering where all our friends are...

The story ended well in that no one was hurt and all the dogs returned safely. But with the already suspicious Mayan disposition, Miss Tracy is suspect. She was seen leaving the village on Tuesday with three dogs. She returned Tuesday with two. She leaves on Thursday with no dogs and returns Thursday with one.

P.S. She didn't ask the dogs to come along on Tuesday, they just followed the lady that loves them...

Bad story will be the next blog. You have read enough!

God bless us all...(animals, too)...tracy