Max is 11 hung in the doorway and presents were attacked at 6:30am. Silly things, like cereal toys and key chains, but even junk is mysterious and wonderful when wrapped. I made a winkish breakfast using a tin-foil serving plate I found, and we managed a pretty nice birthday breakfast.
Max and I took a quick trip to the beach for his last gift, while old man Nate napped. We reserved a sailing lesson for Max, and the lady at the super mercado gave him a birthday bracelet. On the walk home, my favorite, favorite dog popped out from the woods. She ran over to us just for love. Refused food, just leaned her nose into my leg.
Oh my god. I love these surprise gasps of clear air in life, that explanations seem to spoil. Looking at Penny was like seeing my old friend. For whatever reason, time stops and the colors change. That's the best I can do. The chance meetings of like minds are the gifts that no one sees coming, and I hate when they are not honored. I'm actually known for not only noticing such sparks, but for pointing them out and holding onto them...sometimes brattily because they are too special. Anyhoo, it's 95 degrees, we are maybe two minutes from a cool, green pool (Polar Bear Bros book), but Max and I are standing in the middle of the dirt road, loving Penny the dog. After a good ten minutes, a car drives by us and pulls into the garage where we usually say goodbye to the puppy. Max caught up to the driver, and we both gushed about how much we loved his dog.
"She's not my dog."
! Turns out Penny is named Pinka, and spends time at the house next door to the garage. He wasn't sure if she belonged to the woman next door or just hung out there. He said she is always hungry and doesn't seem to be looked after. Pinka runs over when he opens the garage, and he feeds her snacks. "Can we take her home?" Max asked, and he shrugged and said,
"I really don't see how they'd mind."
Oh dear me.
The rest of the day was spent at the pool, as per the birthday boy's request. I scoured google for information in rescue and fostering centers in the area, and cargo shipping. The possibility of actually bringing Pinka home, with two days to prepare vaccinations, travel papers, a crate and transportation to the airport was a dream at best. But. But, I had to just see if it could work.
Amazingly enough, people actually do this- ship animals. In order to bring Pinka home, she would need a month long quarantine and would not be able to fly until mid-September. The rescue in the area offered vet work and foster services if needed, and the super sweet couple at the Shack also extended an invite to Pinka, to help with a short term stay. It could happen.
Nate and I went out to feed Pinka some tuna, and when we turned the corner, we saw her body flopped in the middle of the road. I was sure she was unconscious. Nate ran over and saw her eyes blink. No body movement, but, thank goodness she was alive. I opened the tuna and scooped it out to hand feed her. She ate it. She sat up. Yay, she was just super hungry, and I scraped the last of our tuna pouches out, and she licked my fingers clean. I was done for. Totally ready now to take her home, and set all of the logistics into motion, as she thanked us with licks.
"Hello." Walking toward us was Pinka's owner. Sigh. So, Pinka was abandoned a few years ago, and just claimed this woman's home as her own. This woman looked to be a bit older than I, and has a decent property and ranch to herself. She is not native, but white, thin and missing teeth. Lots of missing teeth down here; I might lose mine with all the sugary drinks. Her owner said she is struggling to feed herself, and so food is not a priority for Pinka. She does care for the puppy and Pinka seems to like her owner, but money and medical care are available to Pinka on an unreliable donation basis. At this point she is giving a brief bio and running down the vaccination list, which sounds like a salesperson unloading a deal. I couldn't be sure if she was introducing us to Pinka, or if she actually wanted us to take her. I felt pushy but told her that if she was looking for a new home for Pinka, we would happily take her to Cambridge. I gave her my information, and really am not sure what she thought of us. Very strange. I told her I was so happy that someone loved Pinka, and as we started to leave she said, "Yes, she's sweet. If you want to drop off some money or food that would be ok too." I was sort of waiting for that.
"We will definitely bring some more treats! Please feel free to contact me, ok?"
And that was that.
The birthday party. I will upload a video and pictures soon, because I'm not sure that I will describe it properly. After dinner, Ernesto joined us for caramel flan and cards. He sweetly brought cookies and ice cream and the four of us played a very serious Old Maid tournament. I'm not even sure if the rules were made up. It was so simple, but the most fun.
Max said "..maybe my best party yet."
We ended the night with some packing and Tom and Jerry en espanol. Happy birthday Max!
Pinka
Max is 11
Maxwell, Nate and Ernesto