Farewell Hippie Dog



HAVANA TIMES — Out of all the dogs in the pack, the hippie dog was always the one everyone loved the most. He arrived when he was still a puppy and he learned to dance straight away to the sounds of drums, maracas and the four dogs who were regulars in the yard.

His name was Piky.

In the past ten years, my friend has (temporarily or permanently) taken in many dogs and cats and there are too many happy or sad anecdotes. I always heard the happiest, noblest stories about the hippie dog. I loved him too as soon as I came along, with his brown fur and delicate snout, but especially because of his noble gaze and his calm and easy-going walk.

When all of the other dogs picked up on another animal that didn’t belong in the yard, they used to run to attack it. The hippie would remain calm, with his half-smile and legs crossed one on top of the other, as if welcoming them.

Word has it that he used to stare up at the stars while the rest of the dogs and cats slept.

The hippie left us a few weeks ago. We managed to get hold of a medicine that is hard to find these days here, but it wasn’t enough for him, having a vet nearby would have really helped, but there isn’t one. We planted a small tree on top of his grave and said our goodbyes when he could no longer hear us.

Piky sleeping.

Then, we went walking along the main road where we live and we saw two people on the grass, helping someone. It was a puppy who had been run over by some car a few days ago. He doesn’t have a hind leg, the other is in a poor state and he has burns on the rest of his body. The man and woman who were giving him water and food were worried, but they didn’t have a car to take him to a vet in the city. We decided to take him back to our yard and give him first aid to then take him to the vet.

Operations for animals and people are too expensive right now. However, a vet agreed to finish off cutting the rest of his leg for a little over 300,000 Bolivars (more or less the same price as thirty eggs). The friends who were looking after him on the street helped us to move the puppy to the city. The operation went well.

The puppy is recovering even though it’s going to be a slow process and the treatment is uncomfortable for him.

He still doesn’t have a name. He has a tender look in his eyes, like Piky.

Farewell hippie dog, welcome unnamed puppy.


Caridad: If I had the chance to choose what my next life would be like, I’d like to be water. If I had the chance to eliminate a worst aspect of the world I would erase fear. Of all the human feelings I most like I prefer friendship. I was born in the year of the first Congress of the Cuban Communist Party, the day that Gay Pride is celebrated around the world. I no longer live on the east side of Havana; I’m trying to make a go of it in Caracas, and I continue to defend my right to do what I want and not what society expects of me.

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