Sunday, January 11, 2009

Cuban puppy ready to travel

Hey, hey. I was trying to sleep. What's all the snapping of pictures? What's the deal here? At least give me a chance to stretch and yawn.
Oh, you're from yuma? You're a foreigner, eh? Well, you got any room in that backpack? I wouldn't mind getting to know the United States. Just a visit, you know? I'll bet the puppies there get lots of treats...
This is my good side. What am I saying? My other side is just as good. Maybe even better. I'm pretty cute, don't you think?
OK, here's where I live. Pick me up here night or day, it doesn't matter. Just stop by this apartment building in Alamar.
P.S. A Cuban woman said in this December post that stray dogs had invaded Alamar. She wrote:
At one time dogs were not permitted in the apartments, but little by little they began to filter in... 
There’s also a dog cemetery. There’s no cemetery in Alamar for humans, but there is one that began with “Trompy” and that now over ten tombstones of those fortunate animals that enjoyed a family’s love.
I walk down the streets and the dogs are there in the bread line, in the shade of a tree, sleeping in gardens, trying to find shelter in a food kiosk, or merely waiting. They look into your eyes to communicate their sorrow. What are they waiting for?

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