oscar’s everyday adventures in life
Meet Oscar. He is going to be 11 years old in March. He was born in Mexico City. Ian and I had been talking about getting a dog, and one day in May 2004, we did.
So one day we went down
to see what the market was like. Perisur is also the name of a shopping mall and ring road; the market is below the ring road and on the fringe of the shopping mall’s car park.
We looked around. It was actually a market with all kinds of companion pets, but mostly – dogs, cats, hamsters, and birds.
We’d talked to some vendors, we’d stroked a few puppies, and I said, ‘OK, I’ve seen enough, let’s go home now.’
‘Oh but I want this one’ said Ian holding a little white, grey, beige furry lump of puppy.
‘What, now? Today? No! We came to do research, to see what it was like and go home and think about it and what’s next,’ I said reasonably.
‘Here, hold him’ Ian said handing me the dog.
… on the bus home …
On the bus home cuddling the little dog, we considered names and the puppy, some how, let us know his name is Oscar. His namesake is ‘Oscar the grouch’ from Sesame
Street. Our dog’s hair was matted, dirty and dusty, as would be if you were furry and lived inside a dust bin.
At home, he had a bath first thing. He was so cute, and look, how tiny he was. The size of Ian’s shoe. And he grew. True to his Mexican heritage, he loved (and still does) football.
He was and is a very friendly dog. A wee bit hyper and a bit-barky, but it’s all in the spirit of ‘big love’. He had friends in the our apartment building. This is Carlo (wearing the FBI coat) who lived on the first floor. Oscar wasn’t exactly helpful around the house, but he tried.
Oscar was over all a good, friendly, quick to learn puppy-things, like pawing at a little brass bell by the front door to be let out to pee, play or just bark to annoy us. For about the first year of his life, his vocabulary was limited
to ‘sit’ and ‘ball come’. We really tried with ‘come’ but he didn’t learn it (or respond to it) until about 2 years old. In the park, ready to go home, and the dog seemingly clueless about that, we’d desist with ”come’ and shout ‘sit’. He would, then we’d walk over and pick him up and carry him to where we wanted him to ‘come’ to.
Here he is with another friend from the building, and also his namesake, Oscar-the-boy from the third floor.
So that’s it really. For now.
In his 11 years of life, Oscar has had all sorts of everyday adventures and I’ll be sharing those
here soon. Stories like his kidnapping, riding across countries and continents in cars, trains, ferries and bicycle trailers, his anti-militarism canine activism, diplomatic adventures crossing borders when the humans screw up the paperwork, and stealing steaks from barbeques at camp grounds and more.