June 17th, 2010: Sitting on the beach in a nice piece of shade, reading a book by my favorite author, Paulo Coelho, my mind went off into the past that wasn’t so past ago. I was thinking about Point Reyes National Seashore in California and was remembering how much I loved that place and the memories that stain the sand with it. Looking up I saw a puppy peering from the top of a sand bank near me. Locking eyes, he ran down and wanted to play…perfect timing, arriving right before I was about to get homesick.
He was a white puppy…a white puppy with lots and lots of little specks, black specks. Looking more closely, he was covered with fleas, large cities of fleas perhaps the size of NYC. Not wanting to pet him any longer, I tried to ignore him but he wouldn’t have it, barking and barking with his tail wagging as if someone was winding it up since birth and finally letting it go. I just could not pet him and tried not to look at him since I did want anyone of his miniature friends to disembark. After about 20 minutes of giving NYC (the puppies new name thanks to me) the silent treatment, he eventually understood and thankfully decided to grab a feather and carry it up the hill to play by himself. Feeling bad…but, I had enough mosquito bites to deal with.
Later in the evening, I joined the hostel for a campfire of about 30 people on the beach. The fire was large enough that we were all able to get comfortable as we enjoyed the warmth as we listened to the ocean rubbing against the shore between sets of the drunken man on the guitar - not knowing one complete song so it seemed.
Popping out from behind someone, I saw the carrier, NYC. Not needing to tell anyone of his issues, since everyone seemed to already know and also tried to push him away and in some cases a casual toss him when all he wanted to do was play…and drink a little beer.
He was getting none of it. Getting frustrated he started to bite people in the arm and feet, even showing his high jumping abilities going up toward their faces for a kiss with teeth. I’m glad I am not the only one who hates puppies…with fleas. This should be a lesson for everyone, not just dogs…no matter how cute you are…if you have lice, crabs, scabies or other some other living thing enjoying the comforts of your hair follicles - clean or dirty, you will not be taken home.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment