Paint Store Guy Comes Back Into My Life
August 10, 2008 at 12:39 pm | Posted in Cancun, M.r Puppers, Weirdness | 2 CommentsFive years ago, Mr. Puppers came to us when we lived right over a paint store on Avenida Palenque in Cancun. The parents of a student brought him to me where I worked when he was about two months old. And he was a skinny little thing that I could carry in my arms.
I took him home in a taxi for the first time and when we got out, the owner of the paint store called me over and told me that he hoped that this wasn’t a permanent addition to my apartment. I assured him that it wasn’t, and that I was just dog-sitting for someone.
The owner of the paint store bitched and moaned for the next year about Mr. Puppers’ barking. No big deal, I just ignored him the best I could.
I haven’t thought about this man in years. Last night, as I brought up one of my favorite topics of conversation (whether Mr. Puppers prefers America or Mexico), Homeboy reminded me of how much the paint-store guy hated Mr. Puppers. Apparently when I wasn’t home, he’d come bang on our apartment door and Homeboy wouldn’t answer. Then Homeboy and Mr. Puppers would go out to play in the park and paint-store guy would glare at them.
Not a terribly interesting conversation, of course. But later that night, I was in bed reading and Homeboy was watching Atlante play soccer in Cancun. He comes into the bedroom screaming, “Paint-store guy! Remember paint store guy?” Um, yes, we just talked at length about paint-store guy.
“Well, I just saw paint-store guy on TV at the game! He had an Atlante shirt on and was cheering!”
How random.
Mr. Puppers Tears Shit Up
December 17, 2007 at 11:10 am | Posted in Life in the US, M.r Puppers | 7 CommentsFor almost a year, Leo and I spent great weekend afternoons and balmy summer evenings playing and mingling at the Gano Street Dog Park. He loved to sniff around the edges of the park on his own, and wasn’t terribly interested in playing with other dogs. And he was so docile, I nicknamed him my “little sissy boy.” In fact, he could barely make it to his favorite poop corner without getting humped along the way. He’d get humped by little ankle-biters, gigantic dogs, female dogs, neutered male dogs. Everyone wanted a piece of Leo. Sometimes he’d be on the bottom of a doggie Conga line. Sometimes he’d get one going behind him and another mounting his head. He’d just stand there looking slightly befuddled and let them have their way with him.
I think one day he got fed up and snapped. He’s still generally his docile, sissy-boy self. But he has gotten agressive at the park and I don’t know why. He especially seems to have it in for small, unneutered dogs with attitude problems. He’ll pounce on them, growl, and look menacing. I’ve no idea what triggers this, nor how to stop it.
I’m not even pleased that the other dogs no longer regard him as their prison bitch, since I have to be hyper-vigilant and anticipate which dog will piss him off for no reason I can see and then head off a confrontation.
Most of my dog park buddies have said that it’s useless to remove him from the park after he behaves badly because he just doesn’t get the causal relationship. I buy that, but after an episode, I’m tense and made uncomfortable as the other dog owners glare at me for letting Cujo harm their little ball of furry perfection.
How I miss those idyllic summer afternoons sucking down Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee, chain-smoking, and gossiping with whomever shows up while Leo romps and plays and sniffs butts. And it’s even more distressing now that Homeboy is in America and he can come along to watch his paisanos play soccer in the adjacent field every weekend, gleefully shouting obscentities at the referees.
How I wish that Leo could just chill the fuck out and stop being so hardcore and just hang out and get mounted like he used to.
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