Astra: Leader of the Pack

Adopted 1 June 2009 in Houston, TX – died 19 January 2023 in Fayetteville, AR

"Cuando!” I used to entreat Heaven when Astra’s eardrum splitting bark demanded our attention … or shredded yet another new Dog bed … or launched against passing dogs … or bolted out the door running wildly for hours killing forest creatures  …. or just stared at her food long after the other Dogs had eaten ... or the boarding kennel called informing us that our trembling, drooling Dog was a huge concern … but when the time came it was not welcome. 

Nothing less than the abiding conviction that other animals are our equals and deserve equal consideration … as does the child who doesn’t meet the parents’ expectations …  would have prevented the average person from returning Astra to the shelter.

 On 1 June 2009 the ProubastaReader posted: We are happy to announce that on 1 June 2009, "Astra" was adopted from the Houston SPCA. Hers is a typical story:

18 December 2008, an emaciated black dog -- Border Collie mix [nah!] according to the HSPCA evaluators -- is surrendered by someone who "found her" (i.e., probably her owner unloading his dog). After evaluation, she is named "Faith" and placed online for adoption. No one has noticed she's pregnant.

9 January 2009, still unadopted, she begins labor in her pen. She is pulled offline and gives birth to eight pups. Mother and pups are placed in foster care until they are old enough for adoption. Foster family renames her "Twilight."

7 March, Twilight and her litter are brought back to the shelter. Pups are adopted within a few hours of going online -- some will not survive a year and others will end up like their mother, in a shelter... if they are lucky. Only 1 in 10 pups born finds a stable forever home.

14 March, still lactating, Twilight cannot be put online for adoption nor spayed for two more weeks. Overcrowding of the shelter's holding pens makes a skinny, lactating, shy dog a likely candidate to be pulled offline for euthanasia to make room for more adoptable newcomers. “Of all the dogs here waiting for a foster home” I asked the placements manager, “who is the least likely to find one.” Unhesitantly she pointed at “Twilight.” I took her home.

31 March, she is spayed and we take her back home to "recover" hoping to find a better home than the Russian roulette of a shelter is likely to provide. We rename her "Astra" --Brahma's missile-- because, as she gains strength, she proves to be the fastest dog at the Bark Park.

Two months go by. In shelter lingo, Astra is a DOD, dime-a-dozen black mix breed; no one responds to our adoption ads nor daily Bark Park showcasing.

1 June, Astra is adopted by us (Foster Failures). Resident canines Farhaan and Magnus, felines Pertinax, Calpurnia, and Basmah; and Tulsa felines Montecor, Antares, Minutia, Rocky, and Simba welcome Astra to the Liner-Proubasta family. 

A family Dog, Astra was not. She was detached, showing no emotion toward people. On the positive side she was alert … and lightning fast, which given the right training could have become a valuable customs K-9 or any activity that required an “intense” and tireless dog.  We offered no mental stimulation.

Basic commands like “Stay!” were purposefully ignored. When we decided to have our dogs Astra and Janowitz appear in the Humane Society of the Ozark’s annual “Tails of Love” photo album, animal photographer Deborah Billingsley invited us to her Bentonville (Arkansas) studio. From the first attempt at a portrait of the duo Deborah’s patience and professionalism were put to the test.  Hours of trying indoors and out, even after a tiring tour of the town, and not a single frame failed to show Astra trying to flee the scene.

What passed for affection was Astra’s briefly standing by Chris’ side of the bed to have her head scratched. Also, in her younger years she’d plop herself on the floor belly up, wiggling as I sang a song tailored to such occasions, “Patatona to the wiiiind, patatona to the skyyyy, patatona me-o-myyyy, patatona don’t know whyyyy….”  And that’s about it for affectionate behavior.

Astra attained perfect happiness only at the Danny Jackson Family Bark Park on Houston’s Loop Central Drive, an 800-ft-or-longer strip of fenced-in grass and trees, as if designed with her in mind. There was also a well-maintained pond where she –hesitantly at first—learned to swim. Her invariable routine was that upon arrival to the park she selected a small group of Dogs, coyly approaching them, then taunting them with repeated fake moves of running away until one or more would begin to follow her. Then she accelerated looking back egging them on, until she had an “Iditarot” going. The chase was on and not even the taller, stronger, or coursing breeds overtook the 43-lb missile -- barely 20-inch tall at the withers. One by one the participants dropped off the race. Undefeated Astra simply chose the next pack to lead and they were off!

Playing lead to a line of frantic pursuers was not enough to quench Astra’s thirst for Speed and Freedom. Chasing balls or freezbees just to return them? Booooring Instead she would squeeze through any door or gate ajar, or bolt if the leash was accidentally dropped… and she was gone! Interestingly, she never crossed a major road – a bit of common sense that spared her life. She would crisscross the neighbohood and green areas, making occasional passes by our house as if to check it was still there. But no command or enticement would make her return until exhaustion set in hours later.

In one of her Houston escapades Astra met her match: On Ashcroft Drive by our house, an oversized pickup driven by neighbor Eric Strange (son of Booth B. former chief of Westerm Geophysical) stood in her way like a cowboy on a savvy cutting horse blocking a Heifer. The massive vehicle turned in any direction she attempted; right and left, cutting her attempts until I ran to the scene and leashed her.

When we moved to Fayetteville, Arkansas, in 2012, The Mount Sequoyah Woods bordering our home were Astra’s favorite destination. We’ll never know whether it surpassed the thrills of the Bark Park, but for the forest denizens and the occasional community Cat Astra’s escapades brought terror with, regrettably, some casualties. Once, however, it was Astra who returned impaled by a sharp stick that entered her groin and exited her upper thigh. You could hear the little voices cheering in the forest. Hundreds of dollars later Astra recovered and unrepentant went on the lam again. 

Our morning walks were unpredictable. It all depended on what other dogs we met on the way. Some she ignored, a couple she loved – Buddy in particular, and many she fiercely challenged at the end of the leash, with varying reactions from other dogs, their humans, and I’m ashamed to admit, me.

On 15 August 2020 food-aggressive Tobias tore unto Astra’s back as they both happened upon a crumb on the floor. I couldn’t separate them; the dogs yelped, I screamed … and Chris who was in the bathtub trying to relax leaped to our rescue covered only in bubbles, slipping and landing on the wet floor next to the vicious scuffle.  Whether Tobias was pulled off by Chris or Tobias was frightened by the crashing figure and let go of Astra is still a matter of debate. The wound was deep and required antibiotics. She healed well but the once bullet-fast dog slowed down.

Other signs of age began to appear. One of her expressive pricked ears became swollen overnight and, again, she recovered, but her ear remained misshapen and her hearing deteriorated. On the positive side, she stopped challenging other dogs on our walks.

Astra remained as pugnacious and independent as her waning strength permitted. Until late 2022 when something more ominous, probably cancer, surfaced. Feeding her became even more time consuming and, worse, she couldn’t digest any food nor control her bowls – which Janowitz and Tobias took as a green light to relieve themselves indoors. Our consumption of Pine-Sol went through the roof.

When not asleep, old Astra paced the house continuously or stood staring vacantly as if laying down would signal defeat. Also, for the first time she followed me everywhere, which I took as a sign of trust – that I could and would help her come what may.

January 19 was not supposed to be the last day. She ate well by her standards and we took a leisurely walk with Janowitz and Tobias. Later at home her system rejected the food violently, leaving no doubt about the impossibility of a recovery. For the first time I saw Astra shamefaced … standing by her vomit – it hurt both of us. I called our veterinarian.

Despite her weakened state, Astra greeted Dr. Robb Jones and technician Angela Hicks at the door … which made my grim decision and their assignment all the harder.

The customary bowl of vanilla ice cream I feed the morituri fulfilled the dual purpose of distracting and pleasing while a sedative is being administered subcutaneously. Unerring in mistrusting people, however, Astra sensed, that that shot was not like the vaccines and others she had tolerated in the past.  And she turned into a Wolverine, squirming violently and biting -- not Angela’s face which was next to her bared teeth – her arm. 

There was greatness and integrity – perhaps love -- in Astra choosing to cause the lesser harm when her own life was being taken. 

In seconds Astra was sedated. More ice cream was offered, slowly lapped … and a groggy Astra didn’t resist the lethal shot.  

“I’m The Great Astra’s last battle trophy!” said Angela sadly. “I’m honored to have been the one to give her last satisfaction: to go victorious of that last battle and of her life. Well done, Astra! She had very little strength left but she mustered it all for one last go.”

Astra met her fears with bravado, and when barking, snarling, or running where not options … then she trembled because she had lost control. Astra didn’t seek affection the way most Dogs do; it was up to us to earn hers. For 13 years we haggled with her for control and, somehow, we all won.