I guess the word on the street is out. If you want a good free meal, go visit 132 Las Palmeras street in Huanchaco. Below is our latest visitor, Sativa. She lives across the street from Julio and Lauren. They must have told her about the dinner party.
You remember Dingle-Berry, the dog that Tree absolutely won’t adopt… (remember Dingle-Berry here)
Well, shockingly, he is hanging in there. Since he’s not actually allowed in the house due to his rank odor, I approximate a meals-on-wheels service and hand-deliver his boiled chicken parts with a bucket of water.
Last Saturday, Kiki had a play date at the beach with Mongo. After some fun in the sand, he came home with us for a few hours, had a bowl of lump, and then went out carousing the bars, as he’s wont to do.
But then we didn’t hear from him for two whole days.
(I think someone was feeling a little used.)
On Monday morning, our friend Ursula Facebook messaged me from her work and told me that Mongo had had an accident. She said she saw him at Mamachas later that Saturday night and noticed that his butt was bleeding. In fact, it hadn’t stopped bleeding since that night, and now it was Monday, and she had to be at work all day. She was really worried. Could I help?
Now, I love Mongo, but the last thing a mother wants to hear about her would-be son-in-law is that he was spotted blithely wandering around the town bar with a bloody ass. How would I ever explain this to Kiki?
Long story short, Ursula arranged to have someone meet me at her apartment to open the door so that I could pick up Mongo. I brought him home to assess the situation, and sure enough, he had a deep gauge in his butt that was oozing blood. I will spare you the photos.
An hour later, Mongo, Lauren, and I all piled into a taxi headed for CliniPets.
I think we might have lost a lot of Mongo points on this visit.
The eyes say it all… “Oh gawd Mama, please don’t leave me with this person who just stuck a cold metal stick up my butt!!”
While we were there, I figured we might as well have him completely checked out. First, we took some blood and sent it to the lab; results are due back on Friday. Second, the townspeople of Huanchaco had told us that Mongo was blind in his left eye. They diagnosed this by noticing that his left eye was always closed. I guess, technically, if an eye is always closed, one is ‘blind,’ but, more precisely, it turned out that Mongo simply had an eye infection. Sadly, it had gone on so long that it led to an ulcer and severe inflammation, otherwise known as Popeye-eye.
After his hard day, Mongo needed a nap on a satin pillow.
I blew our weekly street dog budget (and then some) on eye drops and, after only a couple of days, it was a miracle, MONGO COULD SEE AGAIN!
I wanted to get him vaccinated, but we have to wait for the blood test results and for his bum and eye to heal. He escaped the needles for at least another week.
All in all, I think he is still pretty grateful to be an almost-adopted-please-daddy-please unofficial member of Sprinter Life. In fact, according to Mongo, his new role is “defender of the pack.”
Wherever we go, whether it’s to the beach or a restaurant, he’ll set a 30 foot perimeter around us and stand at high alert. The downside is that he’ll bark at or chase anyone or anything approaching us–including the waiter.
Doesn’t he look handsome in his new, first-ever collar? -STEVIE