Saturday, July 14, 2018

DOG TALES: HENRY-THE PAST ALWAYS COMES BACK---

  THE PAST ALWAYS COMES BACK-Dog Tales: Henry
    

      I remember well the afternoon Henry showed up in our life.
     It was at sunset on a very hot day and we were all the family sitting in the door of our garage.
    A dog of indefinite breed approached us, it looked like a greyhound but with an immense muzzle and a big mouth. The animal seems to have been abandoned by its owner or was lost.
   My mother brought him a piece of chicken and then we noticed that he had no teeth, all had been ripped out of place, but the dog needed company and he was hungry. We take pity on him.
    My mother prepared a porridge of meat and milk in the blender so that he could feed himself as if drinking water, since when his teeth failed he could not chew as all dogs do.
     We gave him affection. But he never responded to the name of "Henry", as if the real one were someone else, the one his former owner had given him.
    A neighbor expert in cazería told us that the dog was not more than one of hunting, so that he did not dismantle the prey lying down with a rifle or shotgun, all his teeth were pulled out.
   The children of the neighborhood threw a complete brick in the distance and there went Henry to catch him with his big mouth, without hurting the gums. Cruel things that kids do.
   Because of all the love that everyone gave him, Henry did not stick to anyone but Mama at lunchtime. In the afternoon he sat on the sidewalk on his hindquarters and watched and watched the trucks go by. Then he would stand up and bark at how many trucks passed by on our street. Later, disenchanted he returned to his same position, until nightfall.
    But one hot afternoon, with Henry in his position of patient waiting, a truck full of construction workers passed by and the dog barked again. But this time the truck a man hit a scream with a name that nobody understood. Henry ran and jumped up to the bed of the truck to meet his owner without looking back, without appreciating the care we had given him in his new adoptive family.
   An example of loyalty to his master, even though his work as a prey dog mistreated him remained true to the family or the man who helped him grow up and from whom he had received the first meal.
   I saw him as an example of fidelity to his master. All the love of the world of others could not fill the void of the dog that suffered abandonment or perhaps other tortures.
   The dog gave us an example of love and attachment to his past.
   We did not see him again.
        The dog gave us an example of love and attachment to his past.
   I saw him as an example of fidelity to his master. All the love of the world of others could not fill the void of the dog that suffered abandonment or perhaps other tortures.
   That reminds me of most of the Cuban exiles. A song, a landscape of our land, a family member, brings us back to earth, no matter how well adapted they are in his new nation. Especially when one is getting old and a small tear slips by the nostalgia of remembrance.
   Like the Hebrews who were in slavery for 40 years in Babylon and in spite of the mistreatment and torture they cried for their small territory left behind and maintained their customs, traditions, their God and even their songs.
    This is called a sense of belonging to our roots. Even if you spend 40 years of Communism there will always be a heartbeat of Cuba in our hearts.
                                            ORLANDO VICENTE ALVAREZ
                                            AUTHOR OF "MEMORIES OF A CHILD GUANTAMERO"

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