Friday, March 25: Montanita Beach, Ecuador
I woke up this morning at 6 AM to go to the bathroom. The bathroom door was locked. So, I pissed in a bottle and tried to go back to sleep. It didn’t work so I took a walk on the beach.
Back at the hotel, I got the maintenance fella to pick the bathroom door lock so I could shower and pack before heading to the café to get coffee. She was there.
I met her a few days earlier at the beach at the same café.
My friend Tribble says that the universe nudges us once in a while and we should pay attention to the nudges.
Is this a nudge?
She’s not the woman of my dreams. She smells like hell and her tits are horrific. She has sores on her body.
I can’t stop thinking about her.
I don’t want a dog. I don’t need a dog. I certainly don’t need a dog that smells like hell and probably carries every parasite known to man.
I like freedom, travel, and not picking up shit in a plastic bag every day. I like hairless apartments. I don’t need a dog.
She came over to my table and nestled up against my leg. She is a medium size short-haired dog that looks like every dog you have ever seen on a beach in a foreign country. She is a nobody.
She puts her head on my leg. Softly, quietly, kindly. Her eyes are perfect. She doesn’t beg, whine, or want anything.
When I met her the first day, she followed me down the beach and into the town. I have not given her a single piece of food.
So I started thinking maybe I need a dog. Not any dog, but her.
Maybe I need a dog, not like millennials who need dogs for Instagram photos and brunch patios, but because I need purpose and she needs love.
They say dogs teach you how to love if you have a hard time loving. They help you overcome depression, cure anxiety, and add a routine to your life. Thank God I don’t have those issues.
I say goodbye to her and head to the front desk to check out.
She follows me.
I grab my bags and start walking down the street to the bus stop.
She follows me.
I arrive at the bus stop and buy my ticket.
She sits with me.
I get on the bus.
She waits for me.
I watch her from the bus window as I head back to Quito. My heart breaks and my mind is overwhelmed.
I google the process to bring her back to the United States. A ban started in 2021. Apparently, it’s impossible.
Monday, March 28: Vilcabamba, Ecuador
I can’t stop thinking about that dog. I am 12 hours away from her by bus, have a flight home in a couple of days, and found out it is almost impossible to bring a stray dog back to the United States because of the rabies ban.
Do I cancel my flight home, travel back across the country, and try to find her? Hope I can get her to a vet and there is nothing seriously wrong? Try somehow to get a special permit from the CDC allowing me to bring her to the United States?
Or do I let her live her life on the beach, happy and free?
I don’t need a dog. I do need her.
Trey
Watch my IG story when I left her HERE.
my favorite <3