Stevie and I settled back into our daily routine here in Huanchaco and I’ve got to tell you, it’s pretty damn nice. I like 2012.
Since I can’t surf due to my nose injury, (click here to view), I’ve just been working every day. Waves have been piss anyway. Where the hell did the swell go, it’s tiny town out there.
Stevie has been working on the community school, writing, and conducting her daily yoga class.
She’s also been searching for Mongo every day. For those of you who don’t remember, Mongo is a street dog that Stevie started feeding. Then she started bringing him home. Then he started spending the night. By the time we left on our road trip last month, Mongo was hanging out every day.
The day we left he chased the van down the street.
I indulged Stevie in the “what if” game for 2 weeks… “What if Mongo gets hit by a car, what if Mongo can’t find food, what if Mongo gets in a fight?” God I hate those games. I kept having to remind her that Mongo survived on the streets for a long time before he met Sprinter Life.
Nevertheless, I knew that if anything did actually happen to Mongo, I would be blamed. I’m the one who said he couldn’t go with us on the road trip.
After her 3rd day of searching, I agreed to go out to help find Mongo.
We found him curled up on a dirty street. When he saw Stevie he flipped out. He couldn’t wait to go home with us. I knew that bringing him home this time was different. It was going to carry a responsibility beyond just a bowl of food. I calculated the scenarios.
I usually maintain order in Sprinter Life by securing Kiki’s vote. To my surprise, she turned her back on me. Apparently, Mongo is Kiki’s boyfriend… soooo… I was F’ed. We all headed home.
I used my last bit of political capital to lay down a couple rules for the new pack member:
1) Mongo gets a bath, which I promptly gave him.
2) We can’t take Mongo with us when we go back on the road, period, end of story, no discussion.
So, that means….
I own the tasks of getting Mongo shots, getting him fixed, and giving him basic training, like NOT to pee on my surf board bag.
Stevie’s job will be feeding him homemade lumps and showering him with attention.
And we both get to share the joy of loving him. He really is a great dog.
I know what some of you are probably thinking, but please, just stop.
I have this situation under complete control.