Another Dog Story
Lanzarote, Canary Islands
January, 2003

My first night in Famara beach and I get lucky. I have no place to stay and I meet my friend from last year, Roger, who invites me to stay in his spare bedroom. To celebrate I invite him to Casa RamoO for dinner. On the way there a little dirty shaggy white dog begins to follow us. As we walk along he sneaks up behind me and licks my heal. My natural reflex causes me to kick backward and I landed the dog one right on the nose. The dog stops and begins to sneeze violently and I go back to make sure he is OK. "You alright little buddy," I say. He stops sneezing and is fine and follows us the rest of the way to the restaurant. Little did I know that we had formed a bond that would almost last my entire trip.

When we left Casa RamoO a couple hours later, Little Buddy was gone but as soon as we approached the main Bar in Famara, "Casa Garcia" she was right there to greet us. People stared like, "Man, that dog really likes you guys." I found out that Little Buddy was a homeless dog that hung around the cafes looking for a master. After having a few beers we walked across the street to Rogers and, of course, Little Buddy followed. Little Buddy was very happy with the prospects of a new home so close to the cafes! But Roger was not going to have it. When we got to the top of the stairs and opened the door Little Buddy slipped right in.

"No, you canYent come in here, come on, get out, Allez, Allez," Roger yelled with his strong Belgian accent as he chased the dog out. Little Buddy would wag her tail, stop submissively, smile, look cute, but it was no use. Soon she was out on the doorstep.

Roger had a dog before that was related to some girlfriend which was not a great experience for him, I think it ended up getting run over. He was not about to take on another dog. But little buddy was persistent. For the first few nights, after getting booted, she would stay on the porch and cry for a few hours. This didnYent bother me but the next day Roger would say, "WasnYent that a beautiful serenade the dog gave us last night."

Even though I never gave her any food or water, Little Buddy still hung around. She was content just sleeping outside our door. Every morning she was there to greet me, wag her tail and try to lick me feet. This really bugged me and I would constantly kick her a bit, but that didnYent matter, the feet were her primary target. After Roger and I left she would take up her normal part at the cafe but as soon as one of us returned she was always there with a warm greeting. This lasted for a couple of weeks and everyone in town was laughing. The dog followed us everywhere, and Roger would strongly protest, "Its not my dog!"

I couldnYent help myself. I really began to like Little Buddy. Why did the dog like me so much, such unconditional love when the only thing I did for the dog was kick her in the nose. One afternoon I was leaving the apartment to go surfing on Famara beach and when I got down the stairs Little Buddy and Poochie (a big hound dog from the neighborhood) were there to greet me. I grabbed my board and walked to the beach and they both followed me. But they didnYent just follow me to the edge of the beach and return to the cafe like I expected. The walked with me all the way down the beach, about a half mile, to the spot I enter the water. Little Buddy was all over me as I put on my wetsuit and I kept kicking her away. They stayed until I paddled out and I felt strong devotion. As soon as I was on the outside I looked back and saw Little Buddy and Poochie heading back up the beach towards the cafes and home. This incident really surprised me. Why did that dog like me so much!

Little buddy was very persistent but Roger was unbudging. I really liked the dog but had no say in the matter. It was Rogers place and I was only going to be around for a few weeks. He would have have the dog for life.

Little buddy greeted me every morning on the stairs for two entire weeks. Then one day, out of the blue, she was gone. She was not on the stairs in the morning and I didnYent see her at the cafe all day. Where could she be? That evening Roger came home and the first thing he said was, "Were you missing something this morning?" I looked at him like, of course, the dog was gone. He quickly said, "Andreas took the dog home with him last night. He has a dog, and had another dog, that got run over so he took our dog home." Roger knew I liked the dog and I looked a little dissapointed.

"No, he will take good care of her. They have lots of land, animals and another dog. It will be a good home," he stated. I smiled a little and said, "Yeah, thats cool, she needed a home, IYenm sure she will be happy."

I had been to AndreasYens place and It was really nice. It was out in the middle of the desert on the road between Famara and Teguise. The ranch has horses, goats, chickens, cows, pigs and a lonely dog. Little buddy really needed a home and a good one was provided.

But I really missed Little Buddy. We had a bond, some kind of connection, a unconditional friendship that shows up from nowhere. And then returns to oblivion. I would never see Little Buddy again. Just fond memories of fake kicking Little Buddy down the stairs on my way to check the surf.




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