Blanquita and the Cycle That Had to End
I first saw Blanquita in August.
She was pregnant, extremely thin, and eating garbage near a ravine under a bridge, a place where people regularly dump trash.
She was scared and would not let anyone get close.
Every time I tried to approach her, she ran.
I started bringing her food, hoping she would slowly begin to trust me.
But Blanquita had learned to survive alone. Trust was not easy for her.
When I had to leave, she was still there.
When I Came Back
In November, I returned to Tingo.
By then, her puppies were already walking.
Some had been taken by people, she had 7 puppies.
I was able to rescue two of them, Lili and Vaqui.
But Blanquita was still there.
Still vulnerable.
Still unspayed.
Still at risk of becoming pregnant again.
And I knew I could not leave her a second time without changing her future.
Breaking the Cycle
This time, I came prepared.
We brought food. We brought patience. We brought mild sedatives prescribed for safe handling.
And we brought determination.
The first attempt was at night.
Around 6 or 7 p.m., we went to find her, hoping that with food we could finally get close enough to catch her and bring her to Casa Aurora for overnight observation before her spay the next day.
But it was impossible.
Blanquita would not come near us.
No matter how long we waited… how gently we tried… she kept her distance.
Ketty, her brother, and I stayed there trying and trying — but nothing worked.
The night fell. Darkness came. And we had to leave without her.
The next morning, at 5 a.m., we were back. That was the day. There was no other opportunity. It had to happen.
Again, we came prepared — with food, with sedatives, and with everything we had left in us.
It took almost eight hours. Eight hours of trying. Eight hours of patience. Eight hours of not giving up.
And finally… we got her.
We placed her gently into a kennel and carried her out. It was exhausting. It was emotional. But we did it.
A New Beginning
We provided Blanquita with a large dog house to protect her from the cold Andean nights and heavy rains.
Blanquita was spayed. One surgery.
That single procedure means she will never again give birth in the streets.
No more litters under a bridge.
No more puppies fighting to survive surrounded by garbage and danger.
Spaying Blanquita didn’t just help her, it stopped a cycle.
Today, she is safer. Protected. No longer alone in survival.
After the Surgery
We kept her at Casa Aurora for observation.
When she woke up from anesthesia, she was terrified. She didn’t know where she was. She tried to escape, agitated and scared.
I didn’t want her to hurt herself. So I brought her into my bedroom.
I laid down beside her… quietly… just letting her feel that she was safe.
I also brought her puppies, Lili and Vaquita. I don’t know if she recognized them, but I wanted her to feel something familiar.
Slowly, she calmed down.
And we fell asleep together.
The next day, everything changed.
She was no longer afraid of us.
She ate, she was so hungry.
She walked around the patio, calm, relaxed… safe.
It was like seeing a different dog.
That was the moment she understood: we were not going to hurt her.
That was the beginning.
Today, when Blanquita sees Ketty or sees me, her tail starts wagging.
Now, we bring her food.
We built her a shelter.
She is protected.
She is no longer surviving.
She is living.
In the Andes of Peru, overpopulation is the root of suffering.
Dogs are not abandoned because people don’t care —
they are abandoned because there is no access to affordable veterinary care.
For just $25, you can sponsor a spay or neuter surgery.
Blanquita’s life changed because someone stepped in.
Today, she has shelter.
She is safe.
And she will never again face pregnancy alone in a ravine.
