Sunday, September 29, 2013
After a few days in San Juan I’m ready to just lie around, but some guys are cutting the grass. Lucky, Blondie, Robert Redford and I are doing our best to snooze, while that intense bitch, Lola trots from window to window checking; checking what, who the hell knows.
Sultry nights strolling the boardwalk, listening to the surf roar in; what could be better? Road trips to the city, a few days on the beach, in a word my kind of life, seem to be doing mom some good. On the boardwalk we stopped in the dark to look at the stars, mom cried, but not like before. Kirt, I miss you was all I heard her say.
Staying at Amigos de Los Animales can be fun, play bows and mouth duels with my best friend, Jade, who mom calls Jay- deee, good times are had by all, when Chi-Ping comes to challenge the Border Collie. This visit I got so excited about playing with Jade and Lucy I forgot about the badass beach bitches I had to walk past, well, with the big blonde girl backing you up, no worry, I held my tail straight up, stood tall and strut my stuff. Anyway, when mom walked in the yard they all wanted to say hello to her.
Tia/Auntie Adri makes such a big fuss when I came in that I felt like I just won "Best in Show." The woman knows how to make me feel special; I like that in her. After my wonderful welcome, all they talked about was photo day and planning another fund raiser for Amigos de Los Animales, a Halloween Party and the dogs get to come, hurray! I get to come.
Who ever heard of a costume contest for dogs? There’s going to be a costume contest for dogs! I’m going to go as a bee; I’ll be the best bumble bee. No, mom just told me, I’m not eligible for the contest. Some lucky dog will get my prize, the prize I wanted. And what costume could be better than a bumble bee? We’ll just wait and see.
Thanks for reading,
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
So much is happening on Sato Hill; we’re becoming a family, Blondie, Lucky, Robert Redford, mom, and me. Oh, I’d better not forget Smoki, the not so horrible cat. Did you think we were a family before?
In the traditional human sense of the word you could say we were, but they were the couple in love and we were their pets/mascotas. Their love bond shined bright, strong, multifaceted like a big diamond. They stuck out their hands to touch us, to share their love. We gave them golden love in return. After being bounced around and abused, we were star struck by the kind people.
Since Poppy passed, mom needs us, and the love energy is beginning to spread around us; we’re like a gold and diamond necklace. Four legged beings have a skill set, humans don’t understand; granted some of us are better at it than others, just like people, but none the less we feel things and visualize in pictures rather than words like you. Anyway, dad’s in the spirit realm where we can see him.
Mom just looked at Blondie and shook her head, when she saw Blondie sitting in the corner in the bedroom staring at the wall. Mom looked to see if she was after a bug or lizard, but nothing. Mom didn't know Blondie and dad were having a conversation. He talks to us.
We’re supposed to take care of mom and not to forget to watch out for Smoki; yeah, we know. At night dad likes to snuggle with mom, so I sleep at the bend of her knee, Blondie lies in full contact with her butt and back, Smoki has his head on her shoulder and his butt on her boob; we allow dad’s spirit energy to enter, so we can spend the night together. Mom may cry during the day, but she’s happy at night, now that’s family. Am I right?
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Early morning, when the cocks crow, get out of bed sleepy head, the sun invades the dark turning it to grey; that’s my favorite time of day. Wild scents linger on the dew. The island air, freshest before cars rumble down the road, breathes cool, as I hear the whack and thump of fruit ripened overnight falling to the ground.
Well rested from a night in dreamland, on the bed snuggled back to back with my mom; I rolled on my back, while kicking my legs, and then hopped up for a good stretch. With my rear end high up on tippy toes, my front legs fold under me lowering my chest to the bed to crack every arthritic bone in my back, aah. You have no idea how great that feels; it’s time for good morning!
I love good morning, but mom hasn't played it with us since dad died. Last night dad told me to lick mom’s face, run around the bed and do it again. I told him I knew darn good and well that mom does NOT like to be licked in the face; what was he up to? He winked at me when he said just do it. Dad’s fun is always better than mom’s seriousness.
Mom pets me as I put my head on her shoulder. This is pretty nice, my hips feel better when she rubs them. No, dad said. Lick, lick, lick; I got her right in the mouth, ha-ha, before she could push me away, I raced around the bed as fast as possible. At the foot of the bed I turned to face her, then she put her hands straight up over her head and said, “Arrgh!”
Okay, she asked for it, this is war. I ran straight for her face. She looked surprised. Before her hands could cover her face, I licked it! I licked it! This called for a couple of fast victory laps. The second leap over mom didn’t go off as planned; she grabbed me, pinned my rear between her legs and tickled me until I squealed with glee.
Oh, I’ve got to pee; it’s time to go out now. Later, people, Chi
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Pouring rain, lightning, and thunder; I’m parked next to mom on the bed. Blondie holds vigil in the hallway.
Mom took off most the few days we’ve been home. I scooted past her as she went out the door. Dancing with glee I jumped in the SUV. I knew we were going someplace good. Mom tucked me under her arm, plopped me inside the door, and left without me; no fooling.
Being home with a fresh bowl of water and kibble to spare isn’t the worse fate for a dog, so I’m not complaining, but I’m supposed to be taking care of mom. Dad told us that over and over. Blondie said we were to take care of the house and the cat; the cat?? I have to protect the cat? Blondie swears that’s what mom said to her very seriously. Protect the cat is what Blondie intends to do, so we protect the cat. Grrrr…
When we were at Tia/Auntie Adri’s I ran along the Atlantic Ocean, the briny air burned in my nose. I danced down the shore with waves licking my toes. Yahoo, it’s good to be alive. I’m a happy dog. I’m a happy dog; see my tail mom. Mom, what, Mom? Don’t cry. I had to show her how sad I was, how much I miss dad; I put my head down, my ears back, and my tail down. Before I could fall to my side, she scooped me up; I love to be scooped up by her, she smiled and then wiped tears from her eyes.
Once we were tied together we had lunch on the shore at Soleil Beach Club. Yoo-hoo, my tail was so high; my nose was in the air. We’re having lunch at a beach club. Nobody has given me a cross look or thrown my little boriqua butt out. If I had known we were going out, I’d have rolled in something special. By the time we got to the table my knees got shaky. I didn’t know what to do, so I froze in place under mom’s chair.
She sensed my overloaded nerves; talking in quiet tones she told me how good I am. This always cheers me, but when the waiter came I ducked. I can’t go anywhere, I’m tied to mom. Panic! “Good dog, Chi,” mom’s cheerful voice calmed me, but I’m not moving. I’m just going to be still here under this chair. That’s my mom in the chair, if it makes a difference.
Sniff, sniff, my nose raised to capture the scent of calamari coming my way, my way. Oh, no, I’m not moving. I know what happens. Mom and dad are the only ones we feel safe to eat when they’re very close to us. I need my space to eat. I’m not asking for any food; anyway, we get nothing then, but she’s a sucker for sad looks given ever so patiently. Chi scores! Smile, but I’m too scared to move, even when the waiter walked away.
Mom put a saucer of water down for me, like it would be okay for me to drink in here; nah, I’m not taking any chances. Mom’s pretty cool and all, but I understand dominance better than she does. This guy worried me. He set the calamari on a low table inches from my nose. Is this some sort of torture? I turned to get a closer sniff, when that waiter man came again.
My crazy mom put the calamari beside her on the bench with spaces between the boards. My nose could almost touch the plate. It smelled divine. A small piece fell to the floor just out from under my chair. Nah, I’m too scared. Mom put her feet up on the low table, imagine. The waiter passed our section I tensed, couldn’t touch the calamari. Chunks of crispy coating that smelled like heaven dropped into a pile. My mouth watered. The waiter was standing at a counter not far from us. “What a good girl,” mom whispered. A whole calamari ring landed on top of the pile splattering the crispy coating.
A dog can only take so much. I sprang to the tempting pile, began to gobble when what must be the best waiter in Puerto Rico came back with the check. How un-nerving, but I ignored him, when mom told me again how good I am; he didn't matter.
|At Soleil planning Photo Day fund raiser for Amigos de Los Animales|
Life in Pinones jumped in my face each morning like a pack of dogs, well actually, it is a pack of dogs. Amigos de Los Animales Rescue and Shelter has about fifty dogs for adoption. I made some friends.
We went home and then returned to Auntie Adri’s and home again. Lefty, the little yellow boy left in the parking lot of an abandoned bar along the road mom drug home, stayed at Amigos. Mom said we’re it; she can’t keep any more dogs. He’ll be up for adoption. I’ll miss Lefty. He had manners, not like these two cur boys here. Lefty knew how to sit waiting politely for his treats. Everybody gets their treats faster when we all cooperate.
Dad’s spirit is here with us. Blondie and I feel him. Blondie is still really sad that he’s not here to rub her. I think he’s just as cool as a spirit. We’re worried about mom
Monday, September 16, 2013
The pressure is more than a little dog can take. On a normal day care must be taken, so none of the newcomers get in my spots. Do I need to tell you how aggravating it is to see Lucky curled up on my favorite pillow? Or the sinking feeling you get when you toddle towards the food dish only to see the big bitch, Lola, finishing the last kibbles, when I feel like a knash.
|Both in heaven, Kirt & Stormy|
Nothing normal since poppy died. For days we all laid around depressed, listening to mom cry. Blondie and I took our positions around her on the bed. Pop always told us to take care of mom, now I know why. Even in his wheelchair he was the man in charge, but don’t get me wrong he was the gentlest loving man I ever met in my life….by far. We were so sad, but dogs don’t cry the way you humans do. We held the pain in our hearts and slept.
Robert Redford got guardy. If a gecko rustled the plant leaves, he was all: ruff, ruff. He ran around the house in search of something to attack. The boy killed a rat and two frogs in three days. “Red,” the bad assed golden retriever puppy, challenged Geri, when he came up to do something on the porch. Grrr, ruff-ruff with hackles momma’s pretty boy seriously thought he’d prevent this man from coming on our porch. The boy’s young, he doesn’t know men very well, yet.
Auntie Adri came before too long, yes, I call her auntie; my family has grown, to take us to Amigos de Los Animales in Pinones, which is all the way across the island by car. I love Auntie Adri; she sings and she pets good. Mom smiled for the first time, when Auntie Adri said something. Mom smiled that’s a good thing. Thank you, Auntie; I didn’t know how I would ever get my loving mom to smile again.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
The second Sunday in July began like any other; mom looked on the floor in the spare room to see if I had an accident, as we walked to the door. Blondie and I made our rounds inspecting the neighborhood. Lola, Lucky and Robert Redford stayed close to the house waiting to be fed. Blondie and I would be back before the third bowl hit the floor.
Some time later, we were sniffing around up the hill, when we heard mom scream and yell. Before we could get home she came flying, I mean going fast for her down the hill hollering, “Ayuda me!” My ears went back, it scared me. I jumped at her leg as she hurried back to our house. What was happening; I wanted to know. The door slammed in my face, when I tried to walk in with her. What’s wrong with her?
“Kirt,Kirt!,” mom cried, then we ran to the patio outside the bedroom windows. I couldn't hear dad. His scent changed, we knew he was in trouble. Lucky and Red hid in the bushes nearby with wide eyes peering out. Blondie, Lola and I went into guard mode.
A man in a uniform stayed in his car in front of the house. We bounced and barked surrounding the car. “No,” mom commanded in a tone that set us back on our tails. “Hurry, hurry!” she repeated to the man over and over again. Soon other people arrived. Lola and the puppies barked, defending the door. Lucky’s hackles were up like the little boy was seriously defending his home. Lola barked, but I could tell she wasn't too sure about what she was doing. Mom told us, “NO,” before and that was good enough for me and Blondie; we know the woman. What was wrong with dad? His scent lacked vital force.
Mom yelled in Spanish and in English at people in uniforms. We stood ready to protect, but when mom started crying we didn’t know which way to go. We wanted to get in the house to comfort her. Mom and dad’s friends, the dog lover ladies, Alma and Adri arrived. Mom screamed and cried while telling them that the uniformed people wouldn’t help dad.
People from the neighborhood filled the yard and began coming into the house. Blondie, Lucky and I streaked in with some. A uniformed man waived us away from the bedroom with dad, mom, friends and uniformed people. Blondie and I know death when we smell it. Lucky ran outside to hide under the car. The only other death he ever smelled was his sister a couple of weeks ago.
It can’t be dad; he’s the greatest dad in the world. His scent was flat. Mom sobbed, wailing so hard I waited for her to howl, so I could howl with her. The uniforms retreated to the porch for a smoke. Blondie tiptoed into the bedroom, where dad sat slumped over in his wheelchair, ash grey. I stood there looking up at him, when my turn came. No more scratches behind the ears from those hands. No more sweet words from his lips. My tail dropped to the lowest, since the day I was dumped here. I touched my nose to his leg to fill it with his scent one last time.
Farewell, friend to all, father of the furry kidz and all round great guy,
Clure “Kirt” Carr, July 14, 2013 RIP
We love you,
Chi-Ping, Blondie, Smoki, Lucky, Robert Redford, Lola