obituary for a mangy dog

The park dogs have many jobs but their main duty is to keep town dogs out of the park. They do a great job. These lazy-ass mellow dogs go through an amazing transformation when a stray dog enters the park. Pigeon, Little Bear, and Tracy take off at full gallop after the intruder, hair raised, teeth bared, barking loudly.

But not so with the mange dog. Not only did they let him enter the park but Tracy seemed to be protective of him, keeping him within her sights, curled up not too far away from this dog who appeared to be on his last legs. Maybe that's why they let him stay.

He was not the most attractive dog. He looked to be part dingo and part coyote. His coat was a horrible mess of bare spots and scarred-over wounds. His ears looked nearly chewed off, either from pests or fights.

The Ex Trucker became protective of the mange dog. She caught quite a bit of hell from some of the men, especially Mr. Texan: "Don't feed that mangy dog over here. Feed him at your place" I heard him yell one morning. And some of the guys (including Mr. Texan) threatened to take the dog out into the desert and kill it. The Ex Trucker is not one to be bullied and so she carried on feeding the mange dog and slipping antibiotics and other meds into his food. Other people began feeding him and he started to revive. The Ex Trucker called him Boy but a couple of us called him Bambi because of his long legs.

I would hear her call "Here Boy" in the morning as she set his food out and he'd run over with his tail wagging. He took to coming to my place and I'd say "Hi Bambi" and he'd put his head down so I could pat his head. "Damn dog won't let me do that," the Ex Trucker complained. I said "It's because you're always poking and prodding him. He'll come around." And he did. He started accompanying her and her dogs on their morning beach walks.

He became one of the park dogs. Even Mr. Texan started giving him left-over bones. And in the end, that act of kindness is what killed Bambi/Boy.

Mr. Texan should have known better than to give a dog chicken bones. Hell, even I know that. But I guess he figured this one was okay because it was bigger and would not splinter off and do damage. It was about two weeks ago when we noticed Bambi/Boy having trouble breathing. But he seemed to get better. Then he disappeared. Two days ago I asked the Ex Trucker if she had seen him. "I think he's dead. Someone saw him fall over as he tried to take a piss."

I saw the Texans. "Have you seen Bambi?" I asked. Mr. Texan said "I think he's dead. I saw him on the beach and he couldn't walk. He kept falling over. I wonder if someone gave him heart worm medicine. That would kill a grown dog." We wondered if someone hadn't poisoned him.

Bambi/Boy showed up yesterday and the Ex Trucker asked me to bring over one of my blankets and we opened it up in the shade and she laid Bambi/Boy down. She fixed up a mixture of sugar water to try to rehydrate him. She gave him something for pain. She asked Mr. Texan about the chicken bone and he actually admitted that that might be what caused the problem and he felt downright shitty about it.

Just before sunset the Ex Trucker came over and said "The guys are taking Boy out to the desert. Francisco is going to shoot him."

"You did a good thing, taking care of that dog. He probably had a terrible life but those last few months here he was in dog heaven what with all the attention and food and people not throwing rocks at him."

"I guess you're right. Well, I thought you might like to know."

I don't imagine I'll be getting that Mexican blanket back. I'm hoping the guys kept him wrapped up in it as he rests out in the desert.