Good ol’ Gopher
I was eleven. An innocent kid, no beard, no driver’s licence, not a worry in the world. The most important thing in the world back then was to watch Thundercats and Dragon Ball, burn stuff, fight with my brothers, burn more stuff, devouring candy and Julio Verne’s novels. In september, picking up pears and apples, sell them and buy candy. And fireworks and ammo for the air rifle. Its funny we never got badly hurt, being such intense and destructive kids.
Except for the time Manuel climbed that old roof and fell on the goat’s corral. And that time Chava broke a finger. And the first two times I broke my nose. And when Manuel shot me in the belly (we were trying to prove whether the Geography volume of the TIME encyclopedia was thick enough to be considered bulletproof). And that time we burned the grass with gasoline, in a (now I see) stupid and dangerous attempt to avoid the work it was to cut it.
Then we got Gopher. There was quite a debate over how we would name him: Baxter, Pixel, Winchester, Remington, Hunter, Max, and all sort of crazy and inapropiate names. Then Manuel said we should name him after one of the first servers ever. And also the word gofer (with f instead of ph) is an old way to say errand-runner. We thought that was pretty cool. So it was settled.
This morning I noticed Gopher was having a hard time getting on his feet. His left-rear leg was... woobbly. I gave him a hand to get up. He was happy (as usual) and gave no signs of any pain. But I know him better. So, I took him to vet. The moment we steped out of the hause, he was walking just fine. But whenever he sat, he found it difficult to get up, like his leg was weak. So anyway, the vet checked him up.
Like the last time, the vet said he is in a great shape. He checked his leg, and found nothing wrong. He checked him again, took his temperature, listened to his heart and move his leg around. We now know. He had a hard time getting on his feet because he is 72 years old. Well, he is eleven but you know dogs age faster. He got a shot of medicine, and he’ll get another in two weeks. He is allright now.
Its funny, Gopher is starting to have old-age-related issues. I have spent half my life with that dog. He has seen me grow. He was there the first time I introduced a girlfriend to my parents. He was there all that christmasses, and new year parties. He got drunk with my friends and me. He has always been there for me, willing to play and be cheerful when I was sad. He is still, after all this years.
He is a better person than most people.
Also, today I found a little bird in the street. I picked him up and took him (or her, who knows) home. He is right next to me now, in a converse shoe box, eating a cornpop. In a couple days I’ll release him in the park, and hopefully he will fly away, eat worms, shit in the cars and all the other exiting things birds do.
Tomorrow I'll discuss a polemic poem by Kipling, first published in 1899.
Except for the time Manuel climbed that old roof and fell on the goat’s corral. And that time Chava broke a finger. And the first two times I broke my nose. And when Manuel shot me in the belly (we were trying to prove whether the Geography volume of the TIME encyclopedia was thick enough to be considered bulletproof). And that time we burned the grass with gasoline, in a (now I see) stupid and dangerous attempt to avoid the work it was to cut it.
Then we got Gopher. There was quite a debate over how we would name him: Baxter, Pixel, Winchester, Remington, Hunter, Max, and all sort of crazy and inapropiate names. Then Manuel said we should name him after one of the first servers ever. And also the word gofer (with f instead of ph) is an old way to say errand-runner. We thought that was pretty cool. So it was settled.
This morning I noticed Gopher was having a hard time getting on his feet. His left-rear leg was... woobbly. I gave him a hand to get up. He was happy (as usual) and gave no signs of any pain. But I know him better. So, I took him to vet. The moment we steped out of the hause, he was walking just fine. But whenever he sat, he found it difficult to get up, like his leg was weak. So anyway, the vet checked him up.
Like the last time, the vet said he is in a great shape. He checked his leg, and found nothing wrong. He checked him again, took his temperature, listened to his heart and move his leg around. We now know. He had a hard time getting on his feet because he is 72 years old. Well, he is eleven but you know dogs age faster. He got a shot of medicine, and he’ll get another in two weeks. He is allright now.
Its funny, Gopher is starting to have old-age-related issues. I have spent half my life with that dog. He has seen me grow. He was there the first time I introduced a girlfriend to my parents. He was there all that christmasses, and new year parties. He got drunk with my friends and me. He has always been there for me, willing to play and be cheerful when I was sad. He is still, after all this years.
He is a better person than most people.
Also, today I found a little bird in the street. I picked him up and took him (or her, who knows) home. He is right next to me now, in a converse shoe box, eating a cornpop. In a couple days I’ll release him in the park, and hopefully he will fly away, eat worms, shit in the cars and all the other exiting things birds do.
Tomorrow I'll discuss a polemic poem by Kipling, first published in 1899.
posted by Antua @ 5:40 PM
2 comments
2 Comments:
Sometimes animals are more human than human... Sometimes they're just animals who eat, bother and throw shit around...
Speaking of which, imagine how exiting it would be to shit on everything form the sky.
I bet Filleas Fog knew how it feels with that 80 days around the world trip of his.
And imagine how fun would it be to grab a ship/submarine with all your 8 arms, and try to sink it while Nemo's crew is trying to stop you from doing it. Amazing.
Don't you think?
I miss not only my dog, but the clear sunny days in wich all we had to do was having fun and no listening my Mom yelling us not to kill eachother.
Saquen a pasear al amarillo! Gracias por cuidarlo!!!
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