My Life in Argentina and Beyond

Thursday, December 17, 2009: A year ago today, Chiquito, my aristocratic dog, was buried in the garden of the vet's brother's house in Francisco Solano. Francisco Solano is in the province of Buenos Aires. If there something that I regret it is this: I was not with my dog during the last days of his life.

Two years ago todayI saw Chiquito for the last time. My time back in the U.S. has not been the stuff of dreams or even modest wishes. I regret this too.

One year ago tomorrow (the 15th of December fell on a Monday), I made frantic phone calls to Argentina. The first phone call, from a pay phone outside the NY public library on 58th between Park and Lexington, informed me that Chiquito was very ill. He had anemia and the vet was doing all he could for him. I rushed to the library and looked up anemia on the Internet. I called Argentina again and told the vet’s wife that maybe a blood transfusion would be a good idea. Silence on the other end. I raised my voice. Are you there? I asked. She hesitated for a minute and told me that Chiquito was dead. Dead? Yes, my husband did everything he could, but he couldn’t save him. I cried; I couldn’t stop crying.

I want you to know, she continued, that it was hard to give you this bad news over the phone. This is long distance. We petted him and gave your dog as much affection as we could in the brief days that he was here.

But every time I called my neighbor, the one taking care of him, she said he was fine.

Well, maybe he was fine then, the vet’s wife said. But he missed his owner. Before hanging up the phone, I asked her to pray for him.

A year ago today I received an email informing me that Chiquito had been taken ill. I was far away and could not fly back to Argentina. Now, 4 days before the first anniversary of his death, I can’t help but feel that I failed my dog. I didn’t mean to, and when I talked to the people taking care of him in Buenos Aires, I pushed them to do everything they could for him. It was a long distance sort of push. I still have a feeling of guilt. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away. I only hope that he, in Doggie Heaven, can forgive me.

Monday, November 30, 2009: A year ago today he was still alive. I miss my little Pekingese and his aristocratic soul. I miss being understood by him and I miss seeing him. For the rest of my life I will feel guilty because I didn't bring him to the U.S. with me. I left him with whom I thought would take good care of him. Now I don't know if this was so. I know that I didn't have to pretend with Chiquito. He didn't judge me and he didn't laugh when I told him (by example) who I was.

Thursday, November 12, 2009: Just before I close my eyes at inght, I think of him once more. I see Chiquito as he was when I met him and the blocks that we used to walk stretch out before me. Then I ask him to forgive me. I should have brought him over here to the U.S. almost 2 years ago

Saturday, August 8, 2009: Of all the unfortunate experiences I have had this time back in the U.S., the unexpected death of my dog in Argentina is the one that I regret the most. That is the one thing that makes me sadder than all the rest. Chiquito was a stray that I adopted shortly before my trip over here. I wish I had been able to bring him with me (I had his doggie passport and everything). The reception we would have received (Chiquito, Lauchita and me) would not have been good. Nevertheless, it would have been better to get him on the plane. If anybody was my soul mate, that dog was.

Friday, March 9, 2009: Sometimes I feel guilty because I have to deal with the neighbor in Argentina who may have neglected Chiquito when I left her to take care of him. And I wonder if he, up there in Doggie Heaven, resents it. I know that maybe dogs are not supposed to have souls, but I feel that they have souls and feelings. It is necessary for the time being to keep up some sort of relationship with this woman. There is no one else and there are things over in Argentina that need to be done.

Monday, February 9, 2009: Chiquito is still alive and we are walking down the streets of Vicente Lopez again. I remember him always. I cannot help but think about my aristocratic dog and how he changed my life.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008: I will never forget Chiquito's eyes when they looked up at me. I will never forget his tight little body walking fast to get me to the best neighborhoods. He was a great companion and a great dog.

Monday, December 15, 2008: My dog Chiquito is gone. He could not be saved. Chiquito had anemia and he couldn't walk. He stopped walking Thursday night. I miss him and our walks, those long aristocratic walks we both loved so well.