The Inside Assyria Discussion Forum #5

=> Lunch With A Dog

Posted by pancho (Guest) - Saturday, March 3 2007, 17:00:51 (CET)
from 189.162.7.18 - dsl-189-162-7-18.prod-infinitum.com.mx

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Lunch With A Dog

I didn’t notice him when I first sat down. The outdoor taco joint fronted on one side by the main street, softened from view by tall potted palms casting a cool shade on the checkered tablecloth (not half bad) running through this Mexican town , just a little inland from the sea. I asked for a cold beer and a couple of tacos asados and saw the dog laying very alert near my feet…but at a respectful distance. I suppose there are dogs elsewhere as street worn as those in Mexico but there aren´t so many of them who display distinct characters that are worth the study. I still think a book of photos of Mexican dogs, street dogs, would do well. One outstanding thing about them is their ability to sleep comfortably in the middle of a street. It’s something wobderful to see, such élan…such a sense of belonging and enjoyment and trust too that you’ll know enough to slow down and go around.

This dog was of medium build, on the thin side as all respectable dogs are, especially those who work for a living. He was so quiet and composed that I had no trouble glancing away and during my meal he uttered not a whine or edged closer or even stood to nose around my chair hopefully. In fact he did nothing…just lay there, head held at a slight angle with a most fascinating look on his face. His eyes were slightly drooping, just enough to look tired with wisdom. He had nothing of the beggar to him, on the contrary he looked like a Buddhist monk, so calm and serene, staring manfully and drirectly into my eyes whenever I glanced his way.

His face wose an expression which seemed to say, “you see me here now, where life has brought me. Surely there’s no need to humiliate me any further.” I couldn’t even think of shooing away and there was no need for he never uttered a sound nor moved, except to keep his eyes on mine whenever I looked his way. He would have been as easy to ignore as the potted palms, except I felt better whenever I looked in his face…and it struck me that this was one of finest companions one could want. He intruded not at all and yet his very presence made a better person of me.

I know what it is to eat with animals for I’ve been to dinner with Bill and Maggie when they were here. How much I preferred this dog’s company. In gratitude I gave him the last of my taco…he neither snapped at nor bolted it down..in fact he hesitated slightly before delicately snuffing it, after which he picked the meat up with only the very edge of his tongue. I’m certain he didn’t touch the ground where I had, with poor manners he forgave on the instant, placed his food. Even the way he ate was dignified…he could have been at a state dinner anywhere.

When he was done, he made no sign that he expected more or even desired any, for that would be unbecomming in so fine a strett animal, one whose every decent quality and impluse was come by the hard way. After the barest lick of his tidy mouth, he just resumed staring at me, hopefully…but no more than that. He could have been waiting in hope of Nirvana as much as another taco...every bit the Buddhist sage.

What really showed his quality was that he waited patiently while I finished my beer, right up to when the waitress placed the check on the table. And the moment I reached for my wallet, he knew our meal was over, stood up and walked to the next table…sat there and put on the same dignified expression. I have no doubt he ate well at that restaurant every day...and only looked hungry because his was a soul that hungered after much more than meat.

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