The dirty gargoyle club
a rock, a feather and a fish bone necklace
Fifteen pesos. Es Todo. That’s EEEET
You mean FIFTY, cinquenta, right?
Ok.
Francisco brings me fish scraps in bags that are well over 10lbs. Usually he gets 100 pesos. Sometimes it seems, he’s just tired of carrying it from wherever to the next place and shoves it through the gate whether I want it or not. I always accept free protein I can make a soup out of. I have a lot of dogs to feed. But a girl’s gotta be in the mood to repack piles of fish goo.
Saturday as I sat down for my Japanese Night of ramen soup with my own veg, and some cucumber cored and stuffed with rice and ginger “sushi” and my fermented homemade Sriacha to watch the Japanese Noodle Shop channel on YouTube, he showed up drunk as Cooter Brown* head leaning on the gate, dogs going INSANE.
He travels with his own pack and they sit across the road and wait. It’s loud. River sits on the rolled arm of the abandoned sofa and starts off the Doorbell Howling. Sharp, high pitched German Pointer alarm. I hate a drop by, but Mexico doesn’t care about your feelings.
Today he had no fish. Which is cool because nothing will put you off your dinner hour more than smelling room temperature fish in a bag from a drunk fisherman. He said something about otro dia and you know what? Fifty pesos will make a bigger difference in his night than mine. I bought turmeric and black pepper at the store which I haven’t seen in 4 years and spent $30 I didn’t have on top of beef bones so now I’m broke. Take 50 pesos. What do I care.
He doesn’t make a habit of it and I don’t mind helping him with dogs or whatever he’s into. These old dudes with gnarled hands and missing fingers have hard lives. They bring me special rocks, feathers, fish heads and don’t mess with me. An unlikely band of angels but like my hummingbird, they have their eye on me. If they occasionally sleep on my sidewalk or drink from the dog bowls at 3am, no judgement.
Another one of the dirty gargoyles from the corner sitters group and cerveza clan gave me a cool strand of fishbones and shells as a necklace to say thanks for helping his dog with la sarna (mange). He has milky eyes and long silver hair that is yellowed like a white senior poodle. He lives on the shore front in a mini van that doesn’t drive but looks like the one I flipped and lost after getting Tboned. The side doors open on both sides it’s not bad. There by the grace of God go I.
*Cooter Brown's Legend: for those who haven’t lived in rural Georgia for the last 15 years
While the exact origin of the phrase is debated, Cooter Brown is often described as a mixed-race individual, potentially half Cherokee and half African American, who was known for his excessive drinking. Some accounts suggest he was a trapper who lived in a shack, and his habits became legendary.
Thanks for reading. For more info or to make a donation to my rescue go to linktr.ee/lolasdogrescue there is also a GoFundMe where well meaning folks contribute for my potential home in a future I can’t even imagine. I go through 60lbs a week in kibble at 750mxn, about $38 after tipping the delivery kid ($160/mo). Bones 600mxn/mo. ($32) I could use a stock pot and occasionally I see them at the used fridge store for $25. The delivery guy who used to bring stuff from Amazon is no longer so I don’t have a wish list any more.