Tuesday, September 17, 2013

My Purpose by Chi-Ping

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

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