Posts Tagged ‘dogs’


February 3, 2017


She had them. Her eyes spoke without words. Their expression was deep and powerful. She was known as the woman with the brown eyes. The eyes told of her struggles, her attempts at getting things under control so that no one would guess the truth. She looked at you and it was understood. Her life wasn’t much  good. She lived with her animals, her 3 dogs. They were the only family she had. She could count on her animals like she couldn’t count on people. Here they are, she would say. They are the children I never had. I love them and they love me. I can’t say the same for anyone else. Where are those people anyway? I don’t see them.





The Third

June 10, 2016

The Third

I was not perfect. It was not perfect. Ours was a complicated relationship. We spent a lot of time together. You were lacking something. There was something that you didn’t have and craved very much. I wanted to give that to you; I wished to make you experience the simple things again, like confiding in someone over a cup of coffee or two. We walked the dogs together. We were there for one another.  You were lost in the dark when I met you. The house you lived in was large but it needed cleaning. I loved you. You became my third mother. I wanted to give you more, to make the shadows under your eyes disappear. You were no burden. You were more than my friend and neighbor. You were the me that I am now.

What Home

May 24, 2016

What Home

It was a good question. What is a home? She thought about it, about the dear 4 letter word that made her feel warm and pleasant inside. She didn’t know anymore. At one point it would have been a place to be protected from the world, the daily routine, the routine that went nowhere no matter how hard she tried. Home could be the place to take a shower anytime she wanted, to make herself tea and something good to eat. A home where she could keep a cat, a dog, pets to love and who would love her. But so many unpleasant things had happened. No, she didn’t want to be or sound like a victim. The bottom line is that she was tired. She still wanted a home. The options were slim at best, nil at worst. She finally got it! A home was a place she wouldn’t have to leave ever.



I am Them

October 7, 2012

I Am Them

My Tia, my beloved Aunt, when she was evicted years ago. My friend Nadia when she was living alone and forgotten after her days of glory. I have their stories in my brain and in my soul. What they suffered, I suffered. What they felt, I felt. Now it is my turn, my turn to go through experiences that are overwhelming to say the least. My poor Tia paid 3 times the market rate in rent for a dilapidated 2 bedroom house-like apt. in Buenos Aires. That high price was illegal on the landlady’s part, but she still got away with getting the extra rent money. And my Tia had no home after all her years of hard work and honesty. Nadia lived with her 3 dogs for company. They were her family, the only family she could count on. They were there, even if the food supply was iffy, even if she couldn’t walk them as often as they needed to be walked. She was tired. My Tia was tired. She lived for 10 months after her eviction; then she gave up and closed her eyes. Nadia fought until the very last minute for her life. The dogs screamed and yelled. Nobody paid attention until the fire dept. got in and found Nadia dead clutching her house keys by the front door.

Now I am fighting a battle similar to theirs. I am evicted. I don’t know how this happened, but it is like another foreclosure. This one feels worse than the first one 7 years ago when I lost my home in GA. It is a hard blow. The experience is surreal, as if it were a horrible dream somebody made up just to make me sad. A bad dream to show me that I cannot have a home.

Little Animal Abandoned

June 8, 2012


I am a dog or a cat abandon in the drop box in a shelter. I am a little animal living in a cage, with my paws up, trying to get out. I am a living being bewildered by what has happened to me. If God exists, then I can’t make out why he wants me to go through this experience. It is no fun. God must realize this. It hurts and it hurts me, the little dog or cat. In an ad I beg to have someone please give me a home. I am litter trained or I know how to use the doggie door, I say. My eyes look expectantly at the camera when someone takes my picture for the ad. If I don’t get out soon, if I don’t find an owner to take care of me, I will die. I don’t want to die. I am a dog or a cat. I want to play and have fun. I want to run around. I want to live. Please let me live. I have heard that unwanted animals are given an injection in the leg or gassed. Gassing isn’t nice. I have heard that a whole bunch of little animals are put inside a container and the container is closed shut. The gas is turned on. The little animals fight with one another to get out, but they can’t. They die struggling to live. There is no guarantee they go to Doggie or Cat Heaven. I don’t know what happens to the little stiff bodies but it can’t be too good. The injection is faster and maybe a little kinder, but death is death. You don’t see or hear anything. I want to see. I want to hear. I want to love and have my owner love me. I am loyal and I am brave. I will protect you from harm and I know you will protect me.

About Money

December 12, 2008

Friday, December 12, 2008: It is still about money. How much will I get out of you? How much are you good for? Yes, animsls are nicer than people but I still want you to pay me for whatever I can do for you. You have cash. Dogs and cats don’t.

Nadia Remembered

June 10, 2008

Tuesday, June 10, 2008: It was a Thursday. Very early in the morning. You tried everything to survive, just like had done it your entire life, but the fire was too great. You thought of everything to draw attention to yourself and your dogs. I know they barked for help, and I know you must have yelled.


April 7, 2008

Tuesday, April 8, 2008: I haven’t seen him in almost 4 months. When I go to bed at night I wonder if he is eating well. I ask myself myself if I did the right thing. Was it right for me to leave Chiquiyo behind? It’s all the way in Argentina and Argentina is very far away. But bringing him here would not have been good. This house is too crowded and there too many animals living in it already. But I miss him.I feel a part of me is not here where it should be.


March 30, 2008

March 30, 2008: Today would have been Nadia’s 84th birthday. I only knew her for four months and a week, but I have never forgotten her. Nadia had something that tugged at my heartstrings. I loved her very much. She had been a self-made woman who suddenly lost it and ended up living in a large and filthy apt. With her 3 dogs. No one was taking care of her when I met her on February 3, 1999.
I had seen her around the neighborhood walking her black dog Otranto, but we didn’t talk until that Wednesday afternoon. I was on my way to the movies to see the modern version of the Cinderella tale, starring Drew Barrymore and Anjelica Huston. I had noticed her dark brown eyes and the dark circles under them and her long black and white hair. She was dressed shabbily—baggy trousers, dirty tennis shoes and a long sleeved top. I didn’t want to be late for the movie, which was all the way in the Palermo neighborhood, almost an hour away from Vicente Lopez. But I wanted to talk to her. After that, we ran into each other until she invited me up to her apt. on the 1700 block of Avenida Maipu. It was something out of the Miss Havisham character in Dickens’ novel Great Expectations.
That March 30, 1999 Nadia had a better birthday. I went to Depto. 10 F, knocked on her door. Her dogs were behind her when she opened. I will never forget her face, or the way Otranto, Niebla and Rubio were protecting her. You were the only one who remembered, she told me. That evening we had a little party in my apt. There was a cake, sandwiches, tea and coffee. Even her adopted son showed up. Nadia was happy.

Homeless Tigre Dogs

January 6, 2008

Sunday, January 6, 2008: What are the Tigre dogs doing this afternoon? How many more have been dumped since the last time I went to see them, a little over a month ago? I cannot believe it. I want to help all of them and I can’t. No, I am not indispensible, but I know from experience that very few people care about them, about the vulnerable and helpless.