Archive for January, 2011

Time

January 25, 2011

Time. Give me a little time. Maybe a week, maybe 10 days. It isn’t much to you, but it is to me. I need that time to have a place to think where I will not be hammered by problems. I need my space and quiet. A week here and a week there with no suitcases to be picked up.

Dogs with Numbers

January 14, 2011

Dogs with Numbers

The dogs I pet virtually often have numbers. They are without names, without a real identity. Some look sadly from behind their cages, some have lost and bewildered looks in their eyes. One or two smile bravely for the camera. They don’t know why they are where they are. They wonder when they’ll get out, when they’ll be walked and fed. It is impossible to do anything for them without money. Most shelters are overfull. Many of these beautiful dogs will be killed off or to put it a little politely, euthanized. Dogs have souls and feelings. Stray and lost dogs deserve more than what they have, what they have to accept and live with.

Dogs with Numbers

The dogs I pet virtually often have numbers. They are without names, without a real identity. Some look sadly from behind their cages, some have lost and bewildered looks in their eyes. One or two smile bravely for the camera. They don’t know why they are where they are. They wonder when they’ll get out, when they’ll be walked and fed. It is impossible to do anything for them without money. Most shelters are overfull. Many of these beautiful dogs will be killed off or to put it a little politely, euthanized. Dogs have souls and feelings. Stray and lost dogs deserve more than what they have, what they have to accept and live with.

Bits and Pieces

January 10, 2011

Bits and Pieces

I have been remembering little bits and pieces about Rubio’s last days. I see the pain within myself because I was losing him. He has been lying on top of the thick checkered comforter. Somebody has helped me put him in the shower. It is very hot and the tiles will make him feel a little better. Rubio can no longer walk. At this point he probably doesn’t want to even try.

That last night—Monday, January 8th, 2007. I went to Coto, the supermarket on the other block to buy him something nice for his last meal. I prepared steak and potatoes. He gobbles everything. It is as if he has never eaten before. When I go to bed to get some rest before they come pick him up tomorrow morning, I can’t sleep. The radio is keeping us company. I don’t know the radio announcer. I have never met him, but his voice, a stranger’s voice, makes me feel calmer. I look at where Rubio is. His eyes are wide open.

Last Days

January 7, 2011

Last Days

He would still bark when strangers approached our door. The bark was not the bark I knew, the healthy bark of a dog in his prime. His illness had taken a toll on him and it showed. Rubio’s job, his built-in ability, was to protect his home. He did it up until the end. When the men came to take him, he protested. He had no idea he was not going to come back to his home, but he didn’t like being taken by strangers. He was Rubio, the strongest German shepherd of them all!

Snow Cats

January 7, 2011

Snow Cats

They were sitting on top of the cars. The snow on the ground was piled up high and it must have felt very cold. Their eyes looked up at me. Some of them had green eyes; others were a brown like color. When the snow falls, there is no shelter for them, no place to safely hide.

The Sandwich Lottery

January 5, 2011

The Sandwich Lottery:

5:45 P.M: A soup kitchen near Park Avenue:

She looked at the line of men behind her. It was very long, much longer than the previous week. The shorter line had a young mother and two small boys plus 3 women. A man by the door of the cafeteria motioned the women in. The lights were very bright. The women looked around them. A lady volunteer stood behind a table. The young mother with the 2 boys went right up and took 3 sandwiches. “Only one left,” the woman thought. “Please let it be for me.” Someone else cut in and asked the volunteer what type of sandwich it was. “Ham and cheese.” The person put it in her white plastic bag. The woman watching the scene shook her head and sighed.
“No soup, please, “she told the man handing it out in white cups.” Just milk, bread and that orange.”

Once outside, she saw a man pick up a $20 bill from the sidewalk.

“Clearly not my day or night,” she thought. And I never win the lottery either.”
When the light changed, she crossed the street.

Pet love

January 4, 2011

Pet Love

Pets have given me a lot. Sometimes I have received more love from them than from human beings. Rubio, my German Shepherd, was the kind of dog who would give his life for me, his owner. It was built in in him. He loved me and I loved him. When he died, I was devastated. He had a good and trusting heart. Rubio is still with me in spirit. He always will be near me no matter what. Lauchita, my cat, is a stray I found by a hospital. She likes to play with the black shoelace that I dangle before her eyes. She sleeps with her little face next to mine. When I wake up, I tell myself how lucky I am to have her. I have had other pets, like my aristocratic and tragic Chiquito. I knew him for only 6 weeks. He brought beautiful things to my life. Chiquito was a soul mate and a dear friend.