The white bull terrier showed sense, leaving while Blondie and I were locked in the house, but not before she stood
rock steady and Robert Redford sampled her goods. He mounted her, she’s not
even in heat. You should have seen her promise him what’s to come, wagging her
tail and snorting in his face.
That’s the way it is on Sato Hill,
dogs coming and going. People put out leftovers some times and then other times
dogs get dowsed with water and told to move along. Humans are a confounding
lot. If you wait long enough they’ll do something to hurt a defenseless dog,
even mom.
She took us to get fixed, which I
now know meant to fix us so we can’t make puppies. That’s no easy procedure;
let me tell you. You won’t believe what mom did to me and Blondie just
yesterday. It was horrible.
With Snoopy pissing all over the
porch and Hattie running around the yard playing tag with Lucky, and needle
teeth puppy, Darla trying to suckle everything breathing or not, Blondie and I
were glad to hop in the car to ride down to the gas station to guide more
visitors up to the house. Since dad died we rarely get visitors, unless it’s
some of mom’s friends, who we call auntie because they’re good to us and we
like them, so we’re anxious to meet the people mom’s been so excited about
coming. Blondie barked down the road to dogs and people alike, she blabbed
everything.
A woman who looked like Jessica
Rabbit with black hair, smiled as we pulled into the gas station. Before long
we led them back to our house, where mom hopped out of the car to direct them
where to park, since Jaime’s truck got stuck on the side of the house making
mud tracks for Robert Redford to roll in, getting himself banned from the
house.
The car door closed in my face. Mom
hugged the Jessica Rabbit lady and a man wearing a uniform like hers, which
said ACO/ACI, Animal Control Officer/Animal Cruelty Investigator. Everybody’s
arms were waiving, talking, smiles all
around; they turned to look at the lake. Blondie and I waited with our tails
wagging. They walked around the yard looking at the mountains in the distance.
Mom pointed to Utuado, a famous mountain town. We want to get out and visit,
too. The windows were closed. Mom showed the people into the house.
The people in uniforms come out
looking relieved. I’d like to get out and relieve myself; now, they’re taking
pictures. It’s a bright, sunny day the lake is spectacular. They sit down on
the porch talking and eating. Blondie is so hot she hid under the steering
wheel thinking it was cooler there. These people were not paying any attention to us in here; I had it, I barked. My
tongue hung out, with my paw on the glass I gave mom a pathetic look.
“Oh my God, Dios mio,” the women
screamed. They came running. Mom opened the door, pulled Blondie out. She ran
for water. Mom grabbed me and carried me to the carport where she offered me
water to drink and put cold water on our tummies.
Everybody came around, the people
asking us if we’re okay and the other dogs sniffed us and gave a quick lick on
the lip to console. Mom kept hugging me, petting Blondie and telling us how
sorry she was. That was scary. It was hot in there, we could have died; mom
needs to be sorry.
Later that evening, after everyone went
home mom pulled out chicken and cheese; we had a feast. Mom kept telling us how
sorry she was and feeding us. When it came time to go to bed, Blondie sighed
with contentment her head on mom’s ankle, while I felt her love curled up in a
ball at her side, under her arm.
So people; what’s the moral to the
story? Yes, so many good ones, but I’ll go with PAY ATTENTION TO THE DOG. Love,
Chi
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