Morning has broken

As I left home very early on Monday morning, few cars were on the road; the only signs of human life were a few walkers and joggers and some men and women cleaning the roadsides, the reflective strips on their safety overalls illuminated by headlights.

Those strips are life-savingly important. It should be a law that once darkness falls, anyone on the streets (pedestrians, exercisers, bikers) must wear high-visibility safety apparel. Driving in the dark, I encounter far too many people walking at the side of Tobago’s narrow, sometimes sidewalk-less streets, almost always wearing dark clothing and not always paying attention to oncoming traffic.

I do not drive fast, so have often had ample time to avoid anyone who could otherwise have been a casualty. What of drivers who speed or those who may be texting, watching videos or checking social media on their phones while driving?

As my vehicle crested the hill to descend toward Hope Bay, darkness was lifting. My personal experience of "paradise" began to unfold...The sky’s gentle palette of orange, pink, purple and blue, autographed with wisps and flurries of dark grey clouds...the smooth, flat, silvery ocean...the fresh, cool rush of air through the window to my face...the absence of traffic allowing a smooth, effortless cruise around winding mountain bends...street dogs, tails held high, trotting confidently at the roadsides, unperturbed by man or machine...

“This is the true beauty of Tobago,” I thought, as I revelled in nature’s glorious display – a direct contrast to alternative visions of multi-storey hotels and other concrete structures that some anticipate as tourist magnets.

I drove past the house at the edge of the sea in which I had lived when I moved to Tobago in October 2012. I often miss the raw, natural aspects of that location – the lush vegetation embracing the abode...the limitless expanse of ocean and horizon...the glorious sunrises...the abundance of fireflies and shooting stars igniting evenings into night...

As the curtain of the day continued to rise, more people became visible. Neatly-uniformed schoolchildren and well-dressed women standing and waiting at the roadside...and men doing manual roadside work – cleaning and light construction.

At the Roxborough gas station I turned left onto the road leading into the rainforest. Heavenly...very few vehicles...no people...only tropically-chilly fresh air and brilliant green foliage, muted into mystery, in parts, by low-lying blankets of mist.

I was on my way to meet fellow animal lover/rescuer Carolyn, who lives in Parlatuvier – to help her catch two of the almost 30 underprivileged dogs that she feeds daily in Parlatuvier, Castara, Bloody Bay and the rainforest into Roxborough.

The dogs she feeds include those whose owners cannot afford to (or do not) feed them well enough or often, and dogs that have been dumped (mainly along the rainforest road) by people who did not want them any more.

The two (Mama and Dancer) that we were about to attempt to catch had been dumped and had stationed themselves at the visitors' centre (the Main Ridge Bloody Bay Recreation Site) for approximately six-eight months, during which time Mama had had three pups (one had died; two had mysteriously disappeared).

Carolyn had had the two dogs spayed and returned to the site while homes were being sought. The dogs were harming no one, some tourists had expressed delight on occasions when they had met Carolyn feeding them, and the guard on night duty had commented to her that they were helpful in sounding the alarm whenever anyone stopped outside the lookout in the pitch black of night.

However, not everyone is in favour of dogs’ presence at tourist sites. An ultimatum was given for their removal by that day (the one on which I was going to assist) or else they would be removed by “necessary force.” I could have discussed that aspect in this article, but focused instead on the pleasant unfolding of that morning’s journey.

Let us all remember – the rainforest is a place where animals, regardless of species, must be protected. The best "ultimatum" is that we work together to ensure their welfare.

(FYI: Two animal-loving tourists helped us to catch the dogs, which are now safe at Carolyn’s home.)