My Life in Argentina and Beyond

I miss my dogs. I miss Rubio—Rubio, the star German Shepherd, the loyal companion par excellence. Rubio was a dog that should have lived forever. Leo was the dog I had to give up for his own good. Leo was my protector but we had terrible neighbors and they made life very difficult for us. Chiquito—the Pekingese with the soul of an aristocrat. Chiquito, who was a connoisseur of what was beautiful and expensive. Then there was Otranto, my friend Nadia’s older dog. He and I understood each other with just one look. I didn’t even have to say a word—he knew. Niebla, Otranto’s half brother, was such a finicky eater that caviar would not have been good enough for him. They are gone now and I will not forget them. Each brought something to my life that was unique and not to be repeated again.

They couldn't find the vein, so they tried again. I hoped he would survive them. He was a fighter. I kissed him goodbye.

I was sad to learn that Oreo, the miracle pooch that was thrown from a building in Brooklyn a few months ago had to be put down. She recovered from her physical injuries, but the psychological ones were too much and it is said that she became aggressive with other dogs and her handler. The teenager who owned the dog has pleaded guilty and will be sentenced on December 1st. He deserves to be put in jail for a long time. Oreo was not given the chance to be rehabilitated and at 18 months, she was too young to die. A few years ago, I had to leave my dog Rubio, a German shepherd, at somebody’s house for a few months. A well meaning person later told me that although I paid this man and his wife well to take care of my dog, he did not get a blanket to sleep on. The man had him sleep on cold tiles even in winter weather. The man’s wife was sharp with Rubio and may have abused him. My dog had a great heart and when we ran into these people on the street, he treated them as old friends. Animal cruelty in whatever form is a terrible thing. I wish that Oreo had been able to find a home and had been able to trust people. May she Rest in Peace!

I thought he would never die. I actually believed that he was immortal. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. There is always something to remind me of him. We had some rough times together. Sometimes it was because of his health, other times were due in great part to the neighbors we had. Most of them were unkind and/or indifferent. Other neighbors were just plain nasty. Yesterday afternoon when I was walking in Green Point, Brooklyn, I heard a dog’s bark behind me. I turned around and saw that the sound came from behind an open window. It’s an old dog’s bark, I said to myself. Rubio used to bark like that in the last months of his life. On the morning of his death, Tuesday, January 9, 2007, when the men from the municipality dog shelter came to take him, he alerted me before they had time to knock on our door. He had to be put down because he could no longer walk and he did not want to walk anymore. The sores on his body were getting bigger and bigger. Even so, he cared enough about our safety—his and mine—to tell me that strangers were on our floor.

There was a dog like Rubio on Madison and East 39th. He had a fluffy up in the air tail, just like Rubio's. When I look at pictures I took of Rubio years ago (like 2000/2001) it seems that he's about to step out of the picture and be with me again.

Friday, January 9, 2009: You left me 2 years ago today. I miss you. You were an irreplacable dog, a companion and friend. May you rest in Peace.

Thursday, June 26, 2008: There was no more protective dog than Rubio. No other animal had his fierce loyalty, his courage. He didn't think about himself when it came to protecting me. I was Number One with him.

Friday, April 25, 2008: For me it feels like it must have felt for Rubio when he was living with his surrogate family in Argentina. They could not wait for him to go. The look on the surrogate family members' faces when I told them I would be taking him back was one of joy and happiness. He was a good dog, a German sheperd willing to give up his life for his owner/person, yet that meant nothing to them. Now I find myself in a situation similar to his.

Saturday, March 22, 2008: Rubio would drag me out to get his palitos, also known as doggie sugar sticks, even when it was raining. And raining hard. Once, he got me out of the house when the water kept coming and coming down. We walked fast to the vet's pet shop, and got there just as it began to hail. We were hit by big pieces of ice, but Rubio didn't care. All he was interested in was his palito. The vet opened the door and gave him two palitos. When she saw how thouroughly wet I was, she gave me two more.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008: Isn't it normal for people to want to get away from what's painful? Isn't it normal for them to want to be somewhere else if their place is uncomfortable? I have tried to have that happen to me, but without much success. The thing is that I have to come back to what I know is not good.
I remember when Rubio was ill and I wanted us to live in another building. Miguel, the portero is a sly, sleazy sort of person. He smiles right at you, but you can't trust him. I know he speaks about me behind my back. And when Rubio was very ill, he was mean to him. It was like hitting someone who was dying of cancer. He did it with words and gestures.