Nov 7, 2010
They've been saying it for a long time—they finally got him today.
The rathole where i live, there's a shack on the side where 2 old people stay, my landlady and the senile (poopdropping) landlord.
They had an old old dog tied near the outdoor tiled sink and they've been saying it's useless so they're gonna get rid of it one day.
That was Bachoychoy—really old stinker—too old to stand up except to eat, ask for water, sleep, poop, etc—looked like a grizzled brown chowchow with mangy hairless red arms (inflamed) ending in long claws.
I used to feed him leftovers—he was grateful and my hand would sometimes get too slow to avoid his grateful licks.
Anyway, at 6am today—I was in bed still groggy from the Tanduay rum—I heard the old landlady say "There's a gate near the sink, you can come in there..." Those were instructions for the executioners—I covered my ears but did me no good.
The first two blows were followed by long howls tinged with regret ("Eli, eli ..." or "why did i end up in the company of such ungrateful bastards?"). The third blow was followed by silence.
Normally, in an urban poor setting like mine, the scene would be followed by a liquor drinking session by whoever had the stomach to prepare da dog as fingerfood. It's usually "dry" adobo style. I didn't bother finding out if they did—that would have been 1.5 dead meat (the dog was half-dead from old age). I overheard the landlady say "Pasaylo-a ko, Bachoychoy" ["Forgive me, Bachoychoy].
At 3 am the following morning, I overheard the old landlady say "I heard the dog whining for water—he came back". Nope, that was your conscience bitch. People, not places, are haunted.
More middle-class neigborhoods would just have "put it to sleep" with a needle. More classy disposal eh?
[*note -- i first posted this as a note on Facebook but it is not available for everybody so just crossposted here -- until I find a way to make my Facebook notes public.]
They've been saying it for a long time—they finally got him today.
The rathole where i live, there's a shack on the side where 2 old people stay, my landlady and the senile (poopdropping) landlord.
They had an old old dog tied near the outdoor tiled sink and they've been saying it's useless so they're gonna get rid of it one day.
That was Bachoychoy—really old stinker—too old to stand up except to eat, ask for water, sleep, poop, etc—looked like a grizzled brown chowchow with mangy hairless red arms (inflamed) ending in long claws.
I used to feed him leftovers—he was grateful and my hand would sometimes get too slow to avoid his grateful licks.
Anyway, at 6am today—I was in bed still groggy from the Tanduay rum—I heard the old landlady say "There's a gate near the sink, you can come in there..." Those were instructions for the executioners—I covered my ears but did me no good.
The first two blows were followed by long howls tinged with regret ("Eli, eli ..." or "why did i end up in the company of such ungrateful bastards?"). The third blow was followed by silence.
Normally, in an urban poor setting like mine, the scene would be followed by a liquor drinking session by whoever had the stomach to prepare da dog as fingerfood. It's usually "dry" adobo style. I didn't bother finding out if they did—that would have been 1.5 dead meat (the dog was half-dead from old age). I overheard the landlady say "Pasaylo-a ko, Bachoychoy" ["Forgive me, Bachoychoy].
At 3 am the following morning, I overheard the old landlady say "I heard the dog whining for water—he came back". Nope, that was your conscience bitch. People, not places, are haunted.
More middle-class neigborhoods would just have "put it to sleep" with a needle. More classy disposal eh?
[*note -- i first posted this as a note on Facebook but it is not available for everybody so just crossposted here -- until I find a way to make my Facebook notes public.]
Comments