Thursday, November 30, 2006

Teeny weeny marks.

Several loyal blog readers have been sending e-mails to inquire about the fate of Mimi, the American lady so violently attacked by the Mexican dog Gorba a few days ago.
Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski paid a courtesy visit to Mimi and found her in good health. Only two teeny weeny red marks on her leg remind us of the teeth of Gorba. And it was no big issue for her. Thankfully she accepted the present: the latest book of William Boyd called “Restless”. And she gallantly offered the visitor a glass of water. Her husband Doug, in real estate and having a nursery, is fishing on the same beach as Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski and they had many experiences to share. Doug asked if he likes to drink wine and invited him to come by next week to share a bottle when Mimi has returned to the USA.

Meanwhile Gorba is still chained to a tree but every day he gets delicious dog food and fresh water. It breaks the part in the heart of Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski reserved for dogs and other cute animals like penguins and testlaboratory-monkeys, to see and hear Gorba cry when he passes by and doesn’t touch him or unchain him to come along. Gorba makes these dramatic noises like it is the end of the world for him and maybe it is. Who can look into the emotional constitution of a dog? To make it worse, Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski learned from his own blog yesterday that helping Gorba in his suffering is not helping at all but turning himself into a Florence Nightingale.
Although it has always been his dream to be a stewardess he expects the Gonzales family not to take it lightly if he suddenly appears at the family dining table as an English nurse.

This afternoon Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski was sitting next to his Lazy Daze motor home reading his book: “The rise and fall of the Third Reich: a history of Nazi Germany” by William L. Shirer.
He looked up when he saw a herd of goats passing the dry riverbed to climb the hill next to where he has established his camp.
He looked how the sunlight played on the animals and showed the dust whirling behind them. He realized that this particular herd had no dog with them. Often, the Gonzales put a puppy dog to a herd of goats. The dog grows up with the goats and lives exclusively on goat milk: he sucks the milk from the goats when he is hungry as his only food. The dog has to protect the goats for vicious attacks by coyotes and this works. But they are the strangest dogs in the world: never touched by a human and probably believing they are a goat themselves.
The goats without a dog climbed the hill and Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski read in his fascinating book how Nietzsche inspired the Nazi’s by claiming that: “There is no such thing as the right to live, the right to work, or the right to be happy: in this respect man is no different from the meanest worm” when screaming goats and barking dogs begged for his attention.
On the hill he could see the herd of goats in total disarray and Gorba assisted by the other dog of Alfredo, separating a goat from the herd to kill it. The other dog was more childish jumping up and down but Gorba was at the throat of the screaming goat. Biting and biting to draw blood.
Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski instantly jumped from his chair, yelled at the dogs and ran like lightning as if it was already the Olympic Games of Beijing to save the life of the goat.
The dogs could not care less of that human being shouting things like “ijo de puta” and running threatingly towards them. They were in frenzy. Out of their minds. Degenerated into a state of ultimate primitivism and barbarity. How Nietzsche would have liked to witness this.
While running, Michel Szulc Krzyzanowski grabbed in one fluent movement, a stick from the ground and having come close to the scene of the cruel crime Gorba, seeing the stick, understood he was in a rather unpleasant situation and gave up his murderous hobby to run for cover under the motor home.
It was puzzling how the dog had managed to have the chain come loose from the tree. And once he was free, he immediately got involved in the activity that had made him a chained dog to begin with.
It was easy to get Gorba from underneath the motor home: the long chain lay to grab in the sand next to it.
Like a boxer who cannot stand still after a fight, Gorba came from underneath the motor home shaking and shivering and breathing heavily.
To punish the dog made no sense. He was just following his instincts.
“Man shall be trained for war and woman for the procreation of the warrior. All else is folly”. Nietzsche again.
It was back to the tree for Gorba and this time the chain was better secured.
Damned dog.
And the goat survived with just twenty teeny weeny marks at his troat.

1 comment:

TiogaRV said...

I love your blog. Very funny sometimes, and always entertaining.

When I was at the Gonzales rancho last winter, I tended to the goats several times. The chivero (goat dog) was especially cute and loving when he was in the corral. What ever happened to that chivero?