Jedi

It’s true.  We’ve adopted.  We have several friends who’ve come to Guatemala to adopt.  Why not us?  Of course one could argue that WE are the ones who’ve been adopted.  In fact, that’s a far more accurate analysis.

We aren’t going home with an adorable baby with puffy black hair, but our adoptee does have chocolate brown eyes deep enough to swim in.  She’s golden haired, and sleeps at least as much as a baby, although usually on her back in the grass with all four feet splayed out around her.

Yes.  We have a dog.

A temporary dog, mind you, she’s not going home with us.

She appeared in the garden on about the third day after we took up residence in the house.  Her thin skin hanging over bones reminiscent of the ribs of a sunken ship.  She had a big gash under her right eye with flies in attendance.  She’d sit near the edge of the porch and just watch.

Feral dogs here are a sorry lot.  Mutts in the worst sense of the word, they learn early to take what they can get and trust no one.  The fastest way to get rid of a dog on the street anywhere south of Texas is just to reach down toward your feet as though you’re reaching for a rock.

Any dog that’s been around the block at all will tuck his tail and run; he’ll have been stoned before.  They aren’t quick to trust.

This dog just hung around, following me with her sad brown eyes as I hung laundry, walked down to the lake, examined the flowers, sat on the deck and sipped my tea.  I may not like dogs much, being mildly allergic to most of them, but I don’t HATE them.  And no one with a soul could have resisted these eyes for long.  One morning after breakfast, I poured her a bowl of milk.  That was the beginning of the end.  The point at which the ink was dry and we were officially adopted.

I bought dog food when I went into Panajachel last week.  Two little bags.  The cheap kind.  Have I mentioned that I don’t really like dogs? The children have organized a reliable feeding schedule for Jedi, morning and night.

Yes, her name is Jedi.  It’s the perfect name, suggested by a laughing friend, because she plays Jedi mind tricks.  She looks at you with those eyes and wills you to feed her.  There is no defense against that.

Gabe, the animal boy of the family, is slowly wearing down her defenses.  Jedi licked his hand twice this week.  Hannah has successfully trained her to a whistle.  Ezra has taken it upon himself to police my one and only rule: she may NOT set paw inside this house.

I’m weak.  I know.  But don’t all kids need a dog at least once?  Even if she’s just a rental?