All alone in the world: November 2013

Hola, soy Sparky. Hi, I’mSparky.

I’m a short-legged mutt, born on the island of IslaMujeres in the Caribbean Sea, near the city of Cancún.

Soy Mexicano. I’m Mexican.

I have curly white and grey fur covering my pink andblack polka-dotted skin, and long, dark, silky ears. My front paws are largerthan my back ones, and my sense of smell is amazing.

When I was a puppy, I lived with a young man, but hehad to move away and told me I couldn’t come with him. He untied me and said Ihad to find a new place to live. I was miserable. I whined, and howled, and cried untilI finally realized he wasn’t coming back. If I wanted to survive, I would haveto take care of myself.

On the beach where I lived, many visitors spokelanguages other than Spanish, although most of them spoke English. A very nicewoman, who spoke a slightly different type of English, was gentle and kind tome. She said her name, and then she repeated it more slowly so that I couldunderstand her.

She encouraged me to come closer, and she offered mefood and water. I gulped the food, then timidly ran away. Eventually, I let hertouch me. She made soothing sounds while she pulled the big, nasty ticks frommy fur and combed out the tangles. It hurt a bit, but it felt good to be freeof those awful bugs for a few minutes. Unfortunately, no matter how many timesshe pulled them out of my fur, more ticks would find me.

I hate ticks!

One day, while she was removing the bugs from insidemy ears and the sensitive spots between my toes, her friend asked her, “Whatshould we call this little guy?”

“Do you have a suggestion?” The woman replied as shedunked the nasty ticks into a container of soapy water to make sure theycouldn’t come back to bite me again.

“How about Sparky?” he said.

“Sparky?” she tilted her head like I do whenquestioning something. “Why Sparky?” she asked.

“He looks a little bit like the dog in the movie Michael,and that dog’s name was Sparky.”

I wanted to tell them my real name. My first ownercalled me Bos because I have a deep bark for a small dog. Bos isthe Spanish pronunciation of the word meaning voice, vos. Now I wasgoing to be called Sparky. I hope I remember my new name.

Every day, I visited the place where my new friendswere staying, and they offered me food and love. But one day, my wonderful newfriend had tears in her eyes as she cuddled me. She told me she had to returnto a place called Japan. I didn’t know how far away Japan was. It sounded likeit was a long way away. I was miserable because another person I loved was goingto leave me.

The man said he wasn’t going away, yet, and we couldbe buddies for a little longer. Then, in late November, he moved into a whitehouse where two cats lived. One was a small, tortoiseshell female, and the othera huge grey male. I was afraid of the cats, especially the male. I had seen himchase larger dogs away from his house.

“It’s okay, Sparky,” my friend said, “I’m looking after thecats for three weeks, and you can visit me. They won’t hurt you.”

Making sure I had an escape route, I cautiouslystepped through the open kitchen door. The cats ignored me. They just flickedtheir tails and strutted away. 

to be continued...