Where Is Safe?

My friend, Lyn, who has been homeless for a few months called me yesterday from West Virginia. She's been living in a tent up in the hills, hiding in the forest. Her parents died in a car accident four or five years ago and left no will so the battle between the siblings over the land has been going on since. The house sits empty and locked up. The brother who put himself in charge doesn't want anyone living in it, especially his sister. He wants it available in case he decides to have a party or some such nonsense.

Initially, I was glad to hear she had a place, even if it's just a tent. She's an experienced camper and it was away from the city. The dogs could run and there is plenty to eat as far as berries and cheap local produce. As long as her brothers didn't see her site, she was safe from the violence that the homeless often are confronted with.

She's been staying in touch with an email here and there or a phone call. I learned she was surrounded by natural beauty and bounty and bears. Then she told me she was hearing a big cat at night, prowling for deer and such. The dogs had enough sense to stay quiet when they heard it though. She moved her site and got out of its way.

Last night's call was very sad news. While picking wild berries for breakfast, one of her dogs was bitten in the muzzel by a rattlesnake. He took the hit that may have been meant for her, she feels. She was just about to call a cousin to tell her to bring the kids and join her for berry picking when it happened.

She got the dog into her van and made it to town where people helped her to find a vet. The doctor agreed to see the dog in exchange for the last of her cash up front. She couldn't say no, as the dog is a dear member of her family. He's stuck by her despite the poverty and craziness that's been her life in the past couple of years. It's a lot more than she can say for her family of her own species.

When she called, she was in tears, not over being penniless again, but over the uncertanty that her boy is going to survive. People there told her she was crazy to spend the last of her resources trying to save a dog. A few offered to shoot him for her. I can actually understand spending the last dime to save this dog.

Today I'm waiting on a message from her to see if Teddy made it through the night. He's a young dog and healthy so he had a chance. His survival would boost her morale. She's lost so much in the past few years.

Now I've got to wonder where a person without a home is safe. What's worse? Facing the cruelty of your fellow human or the unpredictable ways of nature? She's a bad storm or a snake bite away from being killed in the woods, but what's the alternative? Being beaten, robbed, or raped in the city? Poverty doesn't give many positive choices.