Helping the Dogs of Turkey and the Caucasus

Humans and Dogs

People and dogs coexist well in Turkey. Even in the cities, dogs find places and routines where they can be a part of the society. One of them waited for me faithfully every morning at a bus stop, expecting nothing more than a few head pats in return. I don't like to hear these dogs referred to as “strays” because they have a place a part of the neighborhood. People leave food for them, and the dogs keep an eye on those that feed them.

But without an explicit plan for them, they are left to multiply and can cause dangerous situations in the streets. And in rural areas, they can multiply quickly without thinking about who will feed them. My father, like many others in Turkey, dutifully feeds and checks on the dogs of the neighborhood.

Now that I am in the US, I am friends with someone who coordinates bringing over these sweet dogs to connect them with a proper home here. My friend has brought over 1000 dogs from Turkey to the US.

One of our dogs, Shana (შანა), came from the mountainous region of Ardahan. This area is isolated and life there is tough. The weather and terrain make normal agriculture very difficult, so people raise animals to graze on what grows there. Shana was trained as a police dog and kept by an elderly farmer. She faithfully defended his sheep from a wolf attack, but was left deeply injured from the experience. After her treatment, she was left to fend for herself and ended up staying in the village garbage dump.

Her name means “happiness” in Laz, which is a local dialect of the Georgian language. We were able to bring her to Ankara and then to Seattle. She is one of the calmest and sweetest dogs, and she certainly brings us happiness.

Another one of our dogs, Kartof (short from Картофшка), was found in very poor condition as an abandoned puppy. She was a tiny dog, and my friend said she looked like a little potato so she gave her the name Kartofshka, meaning "little potato” in Russian. She has grown to be a loyal, lovable member of the family.

My father found Sheila (Şila) in the industrial zone near Istanbul where he works. He saw a dog that had been hit by a car and stopped his car to see what he could do. Unfortunately, it was too late for the dog who had been hit, but he noticed that she was a mother. So he looked around and found one scared little puppy nearby. This puppy has now become our Sheila, and she is desperate to one day catch one of the squirrels in Seattle.