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disservice animal

March 6, 2010

They were the kind of people who, no matter how transient their location, looked like they had been there forever and might in all likelihood stay till the end of time.  They weren’t big, but their bodies consumed those bus seats.  They seemed to be completely intertwined in each other and this dog they had with them.A spotted pitbull wearing a “service animal” vest, and you could almost believe it from the sweet look in his eyes, and the way his head slumped over on his paws the minute he laid down.

What service these two needed it was impossible to say.  They looked vaguely European (not to say that Europeans are always in need of canine assistance) but she had a strange haircut that was short on one side and long on the other, and was wearing a bright pink t-shirt, and had lots of charms hanging off her person.  I’ve seen many people in Spain dressed just like this, which is the only basis I have for the comparison.

They never stopped touching the dog, stroking his neck and back, sometimes just holding his snout in their hand and staring into his brown eyes.  They were proud, that much was clear, and everyone was transfixed of course, and jealous that they weren’t stroking their own dog, even though they’ve always until this moment been afraid of pits.

As the jealousy and love neared a crescendo a man next to them opened a bag of Doritos.  The dog began straining toward the bag, and the couple tried to distract him by cooing his name, which was something like Guacamole.  Apparently not soothed by the sound of his own ridiculous name he turned back to the man with the chips, and let out a greedy yelp.  We are all smiling now, not least because we are suddenly glad that this isn’t our service animal.  For even the noblest of beasts dignity has its limit.

One Comment leave one →
  1. March 6, 2010 8:35 pm

    That’s pretty funny.
    I guess my Italian teacher was right: you don’t need a good story, you need a good teller.
    You are one.

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