Thursday, May 16, 2013

My Time As a Street Dog by Chi-Ping

Blondie, Stormy and I ate leftovers, but there was never enough. We scoured the neighborhood for whatever we could find.  Stormy taught Blondie the art of ratting. She hunted with confidence when we met. As a natural, my skills were impressive from the beginning, given my family heritage, ahem Rat Terrier here! Life was wild and exciting, until Stormy got killed.

Blondie said when the Americans come back; they would feed us every day. We sleep on their porch most nights. Blondie believed they were good people even if she didn't see them for months at a time. What good are people, if one day they’re here and the next they’re not? I only met them the day they took me to the vets for fixing. I wasn't impressed.
Blondie and I tagged along with Geri, while he picked bananas. Next thing I knew Blondie tore down the hillside barking, “They’re here. They’re here.” She squealed and wiggled all over the place. I don’t know why I got excited. It’s catchy. These folks keep a dog fed, but who the hell can understand them. They speak English; something must be wrong with them. Every morning she plays a good morning game with Blondie, who gets silly and wiggly. It’s fun, but when I got silly, I bit her hand, she didn't like it. What did she expect? We were playing.
Full bellies, brushing and petting, treats Blondie and I were two happy street dogs. I don’t need to be in anybody’s house. A piece of cardboard to curl up on suits me just fine. We hang with people, when they’re doing something interesting, and they’re being nice. I’ll sleep on your porch or under the stars. It makes no difference to me.
The day the Animal Control Officers, Adri Galler and Alma Febus came to visit changed everything. Adri took the two collies living in the street with us to the Shelter Amigos de Los Animales. They talked to the lady who has many small hairy dogs. People growl, too; did you know that? Adri and Alma talked to all the neighbors. They didn't want us. They didn't want us.  Alma and Adri asked Tricia what she wanted to do. Should they take us to the shelter? These ladies seem nice enough, but I didn't want to go. This is home. What is a shelter anyway?
Tricia said Blondie will be her dog. She loves her. Kirt told her that I would be no extra trouble and take me, so we went to the PetVet, Dr. Gwen, who fixed us. I didn't get sick like last time. A few days later Smoki, the cat and I were on a plane!
To be continued. Chi-Ping  

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