MC Quixote

My Dog Sancho Part 33

He started following me one day and he never stopped. He was only about eight weeks old and I couldn't lose him. I walked him all the way back to the house where we first met up and proceeded to walk him to the door.

There were other dogs and a bunch of kids running around in the house. The matriarch of the place came out and began accosting me before I got to the porch. I thought she'd be happy, I was bringing back her cute, stray puppy; a small act of chivalry. Maybe I'd get a reward.

She said something like,

"There's that little runt, I was hoping he'd get hit, always running away, you want to take the little shit?"

I could tell the house was well-trafficked with dogs, cats, kids, and the piles. Piles of papers, old books and stuff. Stuff making its way out to the porch, on to the steps, and all the way into the yard. There were strollers, baby dolls, and tricycle after tricycle; the worn grass slowly being taken over by plastic junk.

I didn't know if she was being straight up. I looked her right in the eye and asked,

"Really?" The kind of "really" that sounds excited, even though I was worried about what my dad would say.

"Yea really, just take the little bastard!"

Since then I've realized that you don't pick your dog, your dog picks you. I understood why this pup was following me, I would have wanted to get out of that situation too. It looked like a rough home life. And that's how Sancho came into my life. You could say he was my first audience and probably my biggest fan.

He did whimper and cry that first night, luckily my dad is deaf, and luckily, I spin records. So that night when I started spinning, I noticed that Sancho perked up, then he started to quiet down, and soon he became calm and peaceful. I knew I was doing something right, so I kept mixing the songs until he fell asleep. That night taught me a lot and it inspired the first rave I'd do, a canine show to a captive audience. All I can say is, you gotta start somewhere.