Dicen que cuando aprendí a hablar, antes de "mamá" o "papá" dije "guau", que cada vez que un perro paseaba cerca de mi cochecito me estiraba todo lo posible para llegar a acariciarlo. Evidentemente algún gen extraño se coló en mi cuerpo.
They said that when I started to talk my first word was "wof" not "mum" or "dad". That every time a dog walked nearby, I streched all I could from my pram so I could petted them. A strange gene is on my body, no doubt about it.
Pero anoche recordaba que hubo varios perros, no míos, durante mi infancia que terminaron de moldear esa preferencia. Esta entrada es un homenaje a todos ellos.
Last night I remembered all those dogs, not mine, that during my childhood helped to build the doggy lover in me. This entry is in their memory.
First one I remembered was "Mao", an Inglish Setter that belong to a friend of my parents. They lived in Montevideo, so I could visit him just one or two times in a year, frequently during winter recease. I remembered him clearly. First time I met him, I would probably be just 6 or 7 years old, and I was his friend till my 10 years when he passed away: This dog was for me a top dog. I still think that he could recognise me, because he always wellcome me wagging his tail and kissing me and ignoring compleatly my brother and sister, I enjoyed that! I can close my eyes and see me sitting at the table, trying to behave like a "princess" as I was told, but couldn´t stop moving in the chair waiting for the second I was aloud to go outside and play with him. One given year a Kurzhaar and a Brittany were also part of the gang, but my favorite still was the old Mao.
Mao has a neighbor. A Saint Bernard who belong to the Swiss Embassy. Can´t remember the name, but his giant head going inside our car door for having a peak. I laughed hard and handled him so my siblings could get outside without fear. This dog was a darling, with his molosian gait managed to walked away from his garden and strolled around looking for his friends. At night, Miss Swiss Embassy phoned one by one all the neighbors looking for his dog.
En las vacaciones de verano mi compañera de juegos era una Boxer. Solíamos veranear en Mar del Plata, y en el hotel donde parábamos vivía un matrimonio de caseros de origen polaco. La señora no solo cocinaba como los dioses sino que fue la primer persona que me mostró el vínculo fantástico que se crea entre un perro y su dueño. Esta perra me seguía como una sombra y con la mirada me daba a entender lo que quería, que le abriera una puerta o que le jugara a la pelota. Recuerdo que mis padres comentaban asombrados como esta perra me buscaba y como yo le entendía todo. En realidad era al revés, la perra era muy inteligente. Un verano llegue y bajé del auto a la carrera para encontrarla. Pero me recibió su dueña, llorando, pañuelo en mano y la foto de su amada Laika, cáncer supe después. En ese momento el llanto mezclado con el español y el polaco solo trasmitían tristeza y un dolor enorme ante la pérdida.
During Summer hollidays my playmate was a Boxer. We used to go to Mar Del Plata, and in the hotel were we stay lived the housekeepers. They were a Polish couple. Miss didn´t only cook like heaven but she was the first person to show me the fantastic connection that happened between dog and master. This bitch followed me like my shadow and with her eyes showed me what she wanted, just playing with a ball or opening the gate. My parents were attonished of how this Boxer searched for me and how I understood her. But they were wrong. Te bitch was so smart! One Summer I arrived and get out of the car running in joy thinking in her. But her owner greet me, crying and hankie and a photo of her loved Laika in hand...cancer knew it later. That moment just tears, spanish mixed with polish, only sadness.
Los fines de semana eran de Anush y Ataman, una Cocker y un Ovejero Alemán, otra vez los dueños eran amigos de la familia. Ibamos de visita a la quinta y entre pileta, asado y Chancho Va encontraba el momento para estar con ellos. Al principio tenía miedo de Ataman, hasta que un día mi amiga me mostró que era tan bueno que hasta se podía usar de pony!
Weekends were for Anush y Ataman, a Cocker and a German Shepperd, owners were family friends. We visited them and between pool, barbecue and playing cards I always found the moment for being with them. At first I was scared of Ataman, but one day my friend show me that he was so good you could even use him like a Pony!
My cousins gave a hand also. First were Twiggy and Gipsy, two golden Cocker Spaniels. Twiggy was mean, bite my brother´s hand once. Later came Pancho the Basset Hound who used to pee my aunt courtains. When he was a puppy he was all love, as all Bassets, wrinckled and big eared. When he grew up, not so lovely, bite my younger cousin in the arm. Those two episodes didn´t make my mind. I don´t remember clearly how they happened, but sure enough there was an explanation. There was also Shaft a crazy Irish Setter, one day they opened the door for going to a walk and he falled down in the elevator hole. Horrible death.
When I was a teen ager another cousin had a Dobermann puppy, called Tango. Sadly he died very young for distemper. Before him was an Irish Setter, can´t remember the name. But I can remember the neighbor´s Setter, called Serafina*, my little sister insisted on calling her Seragorda.
* In spanish is a play on words without translation, sorry!
No sería justo no mencionar a Michina la gata de mi abuelo. A pesar de estar hablando ahora de perros, tengo mi corazoncito para los gatos también. Sábado tras sábado soportaba mis caricias sin moverse del sillón favorito de mi abuelo, siempre a su costado. Era una gatita de la calle, que un buen día lo siguió a mi abuelo hasta su casa. Puso la llave en la puerta y trató de espantarla, pero la gata fue más rápida, entro antes que él para quedarse y no volver a salir.
Fair enough I should mention my Grandfather´s cat, Michina. Although I´m talking about dogs I always had a place in my heart for cats also. All Saturdays afternoons she suffered my endless petting, in the favourite sofa, at my Grandpa side. She was a stray cat, one given day followed my Gramps to his house. When he put the key on the lock tried to shoo her. But the cat was faster and get inside and stayed forever.
At last something I discovered just yesterday night. I was reading an old dog enciclopeadia and found a chapter about dogs in stamps. There was one from Monaco with five dogs. This same photo was a poster I had in my room when I was a child. That time I thought it was a couple of Collies with three puppies, and probably the breed I would have when I grew up. But no sir, last night I found there were two Collies and three Shetlands!! Who would say! How many nights dreaming those three little ones were mine. Destiny is a funny thing.