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Wednesday, July 24, 2013

She don't know why, dog and butterfly...

It was the sort of encounter one doesn't necessarily expect in a park.



Sure, there were couples -there always are- necking on benches, up against palm trees, walking with that awkward walk of being so close your legs can't function as designed, but this, this was different.

His voice came floating over the grass. Oh, you are so beauuuutiful.

He was tall with dark curly hair, fit and confident, with the accent of one well-educated and travelled.

Yes, yes, yes, oh, sweetheart, mi querido amor, I love you,  oh, my little bonita, come to me. Such an amazing girl, oh yes, darling! Si, si!!!

This was the dark, handsome stranger, the Latin lover of a woman's dreams. In a suspended moment he gazed into the eyes of his love, she of lyrically long legs, delicate features, a sweet smile and soulful lashed eyes. A unique beauty, knowing and fascinating.

He continued to coo and court her, shamelessly pronouncing his fathomless love for her beauty, her intellect, her adoration for her.

Oh, how I loooove you, my beautiful darling, how wonderful you are, si, si, SI!

Then he took a ring, her eyes shined, her lips parted....and he threw it again for her to chase.



It was about then that I snapped out of it, realising that I was a bit jealous of a dog. A hairless dog. I'm quite happy in my marriage, but boy oh boy, to be talked to like that:


Oh, look at you, my amazing wife, vacuuming the carpet so beautifully. You are my soul, my stars, my eternal beloved...

No, it's not going to happen. We'd laugh ourselves sick.
Such an attempt would turn out more like little Pisco, here, with his mohawk and leather jacket:
 

I'd like to say that he's so ugly as to be cute, but, well, no, not really.

At least he doesn't get fleas. A benefit of hairlessness, apparently.

In case you wondered, little jackets are de rigeur in Lima. Most of the dogs wear them. My favorite is the Scotty dogs in plaid, but it's a fashion show, regardless. Big dogs, little dogs; it's another way to accessorise.

The kids and I watched the lovely naked dog fetching and frolicking, and I had a hard time not either grinning or swooning at regular intervals at her owner's exhortations of love. He sounded so sincere, so very enthralled by her abilities and good looks.

Her name, when I asked, is Sumac, which means "pretty" in Quechua, the language of the Central Andes people a nod to her origins. Hairless Peruvian dogs are allowed to have a little bit of hair, on top of their heads, on the tips of their tails, but breeders prefer the completely hairless ones, like beautiful smooth Sumac. Not that we got to pet her. She was stunning but like many supermodels, skittish and high-maintenance.

She doesn't like to be touched by anyone but me, her owner murmured, the jealous lover.

I found myself saying something about "Yeah, well, I get that; if I were naked I might not want strangers touching me either." I wanted to bite my tongue off for being such a moron. It didn't matter, he barely noticed us leaving, he only had eyes for her, his perfect, pedigree, hairless dog.

Fortunately another star of the park had arrived; Otto the Skateboarding Dog, bawling his deep, funny bark as he came!

 
Otto is a local celebrity and, also jacket-less, is beyond cute. Whenever he comes out, crowds gather, people ooh and aah and giggle, smart phones taking photo after photo as he rolls along, obviously enjoying himself as much as they are.
 
The kids have been on a serious lookout for Otto, watching the area around the lighthouse for crowds that might signify his awesomeness is rolling along.


Otto even has his own Facebook page. He rides his board like a real pro, pushing with his front paw and then surfing along, tongue waggling, his owners grinning ear to ear. It never gets old.

Bethy and Thomas posed with Otto for his Facebook page, tickled to death. He nuzzled and snuffled at them with his snorty flattish bulldog face, as gentle as a lamb.

 
and when he thought no one was looking, he flipped over his board and chewed affectionately on one of the wheels.
 
 
We did get to pet a Hairless, eventually.



 His name, also Quechua, meant "Naked Fox" and he was a sweet dog. He felt like a soft, bristly elephant; warm, with wiry hair.
 
 
 
These dogs need to be lotioned up on a regular basis to keep their skin soft, and the male ones' bits are, well, a bit...disconcerting to the viewer. Not their fault, mind you.
 
Everywhere we go, there are dogs, stray, pampered, in packs, taking classes, and occasionally we run into Sumac and her dashing owner; inevitably I grin and have to hide it. If dogs resemble their owners, then that fellow has one heck of a Narcissus complex. Or simply a very lovely, lucky dog.
 
So I shave my legs and hope for the best.
 
 
Oh, Otto, you are so beauuuutiful. We loooooove you...


3 comments:

  1. That was really amusing. I want someone to talk to me like that... for like three seconds a day only... espousing things like "oh, you're so beautiful, look at you scrub that dish with your strong yet delicate hands" and on and on every time i turned around would eventually have me braining someone with whatever dish or book or dustbuster i had in hand.

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