Origins Painting Trip: reservation dogs

Window Rock Again, 10x10

I go back to Window Rock on Sunday, and make this 10x10 of Window Rock. It's windy this afternoon, but I'm able to position the van to block most of the wind.

I have been hoping to go back and paint there a third time, but between the people working at the Navajo Nation, and the days of even stronger wind than Sunday, I don't make it back.

Still, I have made two nice plein-air pieces, and taken a whole lot of photographs, and I think I will paint Window Rock again when I get back to Wachapreague.

My painting in the landscape

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Here's another view, earlier in the day.

Horses on the way to Ganado.

The Ganado Wash is an occasional river that runs near the Hubbell Trading Post in Ganado.

In 1851, the US government established Fort Defiance, to have a military presence on the Navajo reservation. The fort was built on valuable grazing land, and the government kicked the Navajo off of it. Fighting followed, and in 1864, the US government forced the Navajo people from their reservation. They were made to walk, at gunpoint, to Fort Sumter in eastern New Mexico.

When they returned in 1868, they found their herds gone, their homes ruined, their fields destroyed. Trading became more important than ever.

The Hubbell Trading Post introduced Navajos to items like flour, sugar and coffee, and the Navajos brought wool and sheep, jewelry and rugs, baskets and pottery to trade.

Those items are still for sale at the trading post, along with sodas and candy, postcards and books. There's amazing stuff to see, to touch and to buy, as well as exhibits, demonstrations and more. The Hubbell Trading post is the oldest continuously operating trading post on the Navajo Nation.

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Dog of the Day

This sweet, shy girl was hanging around the Hubbell Trading Post in Ganado.

She was very hungry, but too scared to get too near me.

Morning Majesty

Oil on canvas, 10x10

The amazing castle-like rocks surrounding Fort Defiance take my breath away every day. I find a good place and set up to paint two canvases, one focusing on the north portion of the rock formation, the other on the south portion. I'll show you the painting in the landscape when I post the second of the paintings.

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AS I WRITE THIS, I am holed up in a hotel in Tucumcari, NM. It is snowing and sleeting outside, and the driving is dangerous. I will stay here until the weather clears up. And while it's a pain to be stuck inside, and not painting, it's fine. I'm safe and sound, and that's what matters.

Here at the edge of New Mexico, I realize that part of me misses the beauty and power of the landscapes around the reservation, but another part of me is glad to be gone.

My sense of not fitting and not understanding is part of it. The Navajo culture is completely different from the Anglo culture, and I saw and felt it up close while I was on the reservation.

A woman I spoke with late in my time there helped me understand a little. She has spent time away from the reservation, though she is living there now. So she has some perspective, and she has asked herself some of the same questions I asked her.

In short, she says, traditional Navajo don't do anything that's not necessary. That could be as simple as not saying hello, or not smiling to a stranger, or it could be something as visible as not picking up the trash that's blowing around in the yard. If it is not necessary for survival, she says, it is not done.

She also helps shed some light on the dogs. This is the issue that, more than any other, makes me glad to be away from the reservation.

When we lived there, my dad says, the government would round up and shoot the stray dogs once or twice a year. Articles I've read about dogs on the reservation (here's one from the Huffington Post, and here's a 2011 article from American Indian Report) say that the problem persists.

And I see, instantly, that it does. I pull up to a convenience store, and three dogs approach me, looking for food. They approach everyone. I take photos and send them to Peter, and I find myself crying about the dogs, homeless and hungry. Peter urges me to look at the dogs, really look at them, and see that, in fact, they aren't starving.

And he is right. At least the ones at the gas station aren't starving. But I find one out near Navajo, NM, where I am painting. She has just had pups, she is thin and sinewy, her teats are swollen and one looks infected. I feed her. Feed her a lot. I find another on a back road in Fort Defiance, and his bones are visible through his skin. I feed another on the main road from Gallup, one I've seen sitting by the side of the road for three days in a row. He runs off when I approach, but I see him eating as I drive away.

The woman I speak with late in my trip says that she believes that most of these dogs are indeed owned by Navajo families, and are allowed to run free. A friend reminds me that there is some beauty in this. And she's right, I know. Peter is right, too.

After days of anguish, I stop worrying. It is not my problem to fix. But on the day I leave, I see three dead dogs, two on the road and one at the convenience store. At least, I think he is dead, and I don't stick around to find out.

Veterinarians are few and far between on the reservation. Veterinary care, I know, is expensive. And certainly, there are more pressing problems in the Navajo Nation - but none that is quite so visible.

The woman I speak with reminds me that you don't see homeless people on the reservation, and that it is certainly better that the dogs are homeless.

I agree. I understand that I am sort of a dog nut. I know I am. So this issue is one that might not touch most people the way it touched me, reducing me to tears again and again. If I could have taken all the dogs I saw with me, I would have. But I remind myself again and again and again, that this is a cultural difference, and while it is a problem, it is not my problem.

I will help in a way I can, dedicating a portion of my earnings this year to helping ease the dog situation on the reservation. If you'd like to help, too, you can find out more here about groups that work to help ease this situation.

Here is the lone vet I found on the reservation. I visited three times, and called twice, and was never able to rouse anyone. But it looks like this vet has a pretty amazing mobile unit, below.