Good Day

Bedraggled and scruffy as ever, Toby the Airedale came trotting down the road. The big old lover boy is alive. About a year ago he bounced through the neighborhood, until he found a spot. He was only a block away from home when we saw him this afternoon.



We had lunch on the beach in Isabela. A cute foxy faced female with full mammaries swinging in the breeze trotted up to us. We counted her ribs, as she paused to look at us. Oh, poor little mommy, of course I’ll find something for you to eat. Holly, our ride is another dog lover who feeds the satos. We spring into action. Within moments Holly has water and kibble placed before the street waif. We stand there looking pleased with ourselves. Mommy dog picks through the kibble eating only the light colored pieces, leaving the rest. This lactating street dog snubbed the kibble.


We watch mommy dog work the outdoor diners. She sits about a foot away from the people; that erect good dog sit. The head cocks as she looks at each person. She’s working her magic. How long will it take until one of them gives her something? The lady hands her a French fry; she spits it out. The man gives her a bigger fry; she goes into a down while turning her head away. Both fries on the ground don’t get a sniff.


This little bag of bones with babies has the taste buds of royalty; a piece of hamburger and she is gone.


Stormy did the dog chatter tonight. His woo, woo calls answered by only two dogs in the valley, Toby’s deep bark the three woo reply. I could hardly hear the other dog.