Small Encounters

Chispa and I came across each other on a street corner of Montellano, where sugar cane grows and mountains climb in the distance. I almost walked right by him. But something in the shadows caught my eye and then a small tail waged. I stopped, peered down and hesitated. I'd already adopted a street dog a month prior. That little puppy, named Burrito, ran away one day. It was my fault really. I left him outside on the balcony to sleep at night. I reasoned that he would stick around a house where he received a reliable source of food. But I was wrong. Although we had barricaded the balcony, Burrito quickly found a way out.


Chispa has been with me a week now and I keep a close eye one him. He loves people and chasing chickens. Yesterday evening I took him to the beach for the first time. My friend Heidi and I headed directly for the Mojito Bar where we happily pulled up plastic chairs in the sand. In the darkness it was hard to see Chispa's head poking out of my bag, but as soon as he was discovered by all around he was a hit. I set him on the sand to meet Bobby, another Dominican dog, full grown and not too interested in a puppy. Chispa followed Bobby up and down our small stretch of beach. I kept one eye on Chispa and the other on my mojito, but my worry that he would wander away changed to a fear that someone else, charmed by his cuteness, would pick him up and take him home. In the hours we sat at the Mojito bar Chispa made friends with the owner and was wrapped in the arms of a tourist for a photo.

The Mojito bar closed and Heidi and I moved down the beach to Lax dinner. As we were waiting for our food I set Chispa down, thinking he would fall asleep on the cool sand. Instead he quickly made his way to a nearby table and sat patiently waiting for handouts. It wasn't long before he was munching on some tasty morsel. I walked up to the group, worried that the people wouldn't realize that Chispa had an owner and would take him home. He was in the arms of one man, quite content. "I hope he isn't bothering you" I said. The man with Chispa in his arms laughed. "Clearly not," he said. "It looks like he has a very fully belly," the man continued. I had to laugh. Chispa's full looking belly was a sign of worms and other parasites. But I didn't tell the tourists that.

Chispa is taking deworming medication and antibiotics and is already looking much healthier. He has his next vaccination scheduled in a few weeks.