My name is Joan Gollub. I began painting lessons at age five with an old European impressionist who saw me as his apprentice. Under his guidance for ten years, I painted sophisticated still lifes and landscapes in oil. I learned early to clean my brushes with Comet and to be cautious of turpentine.

As a teenager, I started exploring other mediums like clay, ink, charcoal, and pastels. This caused a rift with my teacher, and I had to leave him to move on. I studied at Otis Art Institute, several junior colleges in Los Angeles, and graduated from CalArts in 1981. I worked odd jobs—assembling trophies, being a secretary, file clerk, bartender—then got married and had two sons.

Having struggled with the confines of school myself, I volunteered to give weekly art lessons in my sons’ elementary classes to stay connected with their education. This evolved into a job as a roaming art teacher for grades 1-6. When my kids moved past elementary school, I began teaching at their high school, which involved getting a teaching credential from Cal State San Bernardino. I taught art at the high school level for nine years and was Department Chair for four.

After giving it my all, I decided to move to Oaxaca, Mexico, to live outside the U.S. and learn Spanish. Although my Spanish is still imperfect, I use it daily and have been here for 18 years now. Seeking a quieter life, I moved from a small apartment in Oaxaca city to the pueblo of Tlacolula to find a house and get some pets.

In Tlacolula, I found a tiny kitten in the street who became mine. She had kittens, and I ended up with multiple cats. Due to local superstitions about cats, it was difficult to find homes for the kittens, especially the females.  So,  I kept the ones I couldn´t find homes for.  A beautiful street dog started coming around, and I took her in. Without access to a vet to sterilize them initially, I had to prevent pregnancies by essentially cock blocking prospective dog suiters and keeping my cats locked in the house. Eventually, vets arrived in our community, and I could have my animals sterilized. 

I took in several street dogs and now have six dogs. Four are reaching old age with the problems that come with it. Outside my house live five female dogs—two mothers and three puppies—all spayed and released. I provide them with food and water but can’t bring them inside due to space. There are too many street dogs here. Any income from my art goes toward dog food and sterilizing dogs. In my wildest dreams, I’d create a sanctuary for street dogs.

These dogs, despite all odds, are incredibly valiant and kinder to humans than humans are to them.

Meet My Home Team

Odin
I was a tiny puppy running in the street when I was surrounded by several big dogs who wanted to tear me apart. I didn’t know why since I was only passing through. They rolled me around, snarling and drooling all over me. I thought I was done for, but then I saw a small space at the side of the street, up against a door, just big enough for me to squeeze into. The big dogs followed me, but they couldn’t get to me. I spent the night there, peeking out. In the morning, the door opened, and a woman looked out at me. At first, she closed the door, but minutes later, she was back, scooping me up and holding me. That was Joan, and I’ve lived in her house ever since—it’s become my house now too.
Ely
I spent a lot of time outside and hungry but soon became acquainted with a woman and her dog. That turned out to be Joan and her dog, Chacha. They would visit me in the street, bring me something to eat, and even tried to find me a home with a nice man. I didn’t like his house, though, and one morning, when he opened the front door, I ran out into the street and never went back. Joan and Chacha found me a few days later when I was very hungry and very tired. Joan knelt down, and I walked into her arms. She picked me up, brought me to her home, and I’ve been here for over ten years. I get really nervous and bark a lot because of the time I spent in the street being scared. I don’t really like all the dogs I live with, but I like the people, and I have a nice pillow and good food. It’s a good life for me.
Muni
I escaped from a house I can hardly remember, but I remember the wire I was tied to. One day, I broke free and ran. After some time outside, I spent my days in an old doorway, barking at people who passed by, and they would threaten me. I noticed Joan and her dog, Chacha, passing by several times, and even though I felt compelled to bark at them, they seemed nicer than the rest. One day, Joan passed by herself with some food for me. I ate a little, and she gave me more. Soon, she put a rope around my neck, but she didn’t pull, just talked to me until I felt safe enough to go with her. When we got to her house, there were other dogs—Chacha, Anuk, Ely. But they were friendly enough, and I was safe there. This is home.
Anuk
I was born right here, on the land next to where I live. My mother had a lot of puppies, and we slept in the grass. I spent my days with my brothers, playing and sleeping. My mother would go out to find food. Joan started bringing food out in the afternoons and left us water to drink, so my mother could play with us more. My brothers were taken one by one. The big dogs in the street would sometimes attack me, and my mother tried to protect me, but eventually, she just went away. One day, it was raining a lot, and I was sitting in the street under a tree. Joan came out, took me inside, dried me, fed me, and gave me a place to sleep. I am 11 years old now.
Six
I wandered all over this town for weeks. I started as a small puppy and continued to grow, but I was skinny and thirsty most of the time. The rockets and fireworks scared the life out of me. Even now, I can’t stop shaking when I hear them. Joan said she noticed me for weeks—by the highway, in the market, and finally near her house. She fed me outside one day, and we began walking together. I was happy for the company. After a few blocks, we turned around, and I followed her home. She scooped me up in her arms and carried me inside, where a lot of dogs gathered around me. “Here’s our sixth dog,” she said, and she called me Six.
Ava
I was very young, very thin, and hadn’t eaten in many days and nights. I ran around the streets, scared all the time. One afternoon, I was sniffing around some dirt, looking for anything I could eat. A woman, Joan, saw me. She disappeared for just a few minutes and came back with some meat. MEAT! When she offered it, I took it gratefully. She invited me to come inside and eat some more. This has been my home ever since, and I still don’t like to go outside.
Marcel
I was one of the kittens that Joan found in the land near her house.  I was the biggest and she called me Marcel, even though I am female.  For the first 4 years of my life, Francisco was my person.   He was Joan’s companero.  I stayed with him whenever he was at home.  He liked to watch football on television and I would walk in front of the screen.  He would get so mad, but, I was standing up for myself.  He got sick and I stayed with him all the time.  I didn’t go outside, I only wanted to stay near him.  One day, when he was very weak, he died and people came to the house and I hid in the closet.  Later that night, Joan came to find me.  We both lost him, she said and she held me tight.  She slept on the couch and I curled up near her.  The next day and the next, she slept with me.  Soon she brought her bed into the room and we both slept there.  Now, she is my person and I am her animal.  We love each other very much.
Mona
I don’t remember being born, but I remember rough hands taking us from our mother and leaving me, my brother, and sisters on cold, open land one evening. I thought we’d die; it was freezing, and we cried a lot. Then Joan heard us. She came, put us in a small box with cloth, and we slept. In the morning, she fed us with a bottle, and I started to feel better, though I was still tiny and blind. She fed us often, and we grew stronger. Joan called me Mona because I was the smallest, thinking I was a girl. But I’m a male, and now she calls me Mo. I’m six years old, living in Joan’s studio where I watch her paint. When she’s not painting, I rest outside in the sun. The dogs bark whenever I pass on the high walls. Six and Odin sometimes sneak into the studio to eat my food, but Joan always gives me more. It’s a good life.
© 2024 by Joan Gollub