By Gonzo, as told to Ann Hazard
Photo by Terry Hauswirth

"Hey. What's up with this cat, anyway? Every time I come near her, she either runs away or growls and hisses at me. C'mon Elsa, all I want to do is play. Damn....  "Oh. Hi. I guess I should introduce myself. The name's Gonzo. Used to be Taco back when I lived at the surfer camp on Playa Pedrito way, way far away in Todos Santos, Baja Sur. In those days I was one carefree pup, let me tell you. I got up every morning just as the sky was starting to get pink. I stretched, rolled in the sand, shook and took off in search of playmates. Being a surf beach, there were always plenty of dogs around, so I didn't lack for entertainment. After goofing around a while, I got bored and wandered off to do my business. Next it was time to rummage through trash cans sniffing out leftover people food. After breakfast, it was on to the restrooms to drink out of the leaky faucet where the surfer dudes and dudettes brushed their teeth and washed their faces.

"Ah, the life! The rest of the day I ran on the beach, chased birds, romped with other dogs and napped in the shade under a car, van or camper. Every once in a while, some kindly human would make a big fuss over me. 'What a cute, cute puppy,' they'd say. Whenever I heard those words, you can bet I knew I was in luck. Big time. Food! Dog biscuits! Fresh water! Lots of loving! Even a totally cool hemp collar handmade for me by a chick from Colorado!

"I guess you've probably figured out by now why I speak such good English, being a Mexican mutt and all. Well, of course it's because I was born on a really big beach with killer waves. Surfers came to camp there from all over even as far away as Alaska and Japan. I loved my life there, except for the time that the wasted guy spilled hot candle wax on me. That hurt! So did the kick in the ribs I got from that other jerk in the Range Rover when I peed on his tires. You better believe I was a little more careful about who I hung out with after that.

"So anyway, now you know where I came from and you're probably wondering what I'm doing writing to you from Los Estados Unidos. Well, it all started on Christmas Eve. A nice, big motor home (think shade) pulled into the campground. Usually those big rigs parked over in the RV Park, where I wasn't welcome, but not this one. These guys apparently wanted to experience the surfer lifestyle up close and personal. That'd be my guess. Anyway, there was a man, a woman and a dog. An old yellow dog who didn't move around much. Didn't eat much either and didn't mind sharing his food with me. All right! Merry Christmas to me! I decided to hang close and check things out.

"The man took to me right away. In fact, before the sun went down he'd given me a new name. Gonzo. Hmm, not bad. Much better than Taco. It always made me a little nervous being named after something humans ate, if you know what I mean. The thought of ending up on somebody's combo platter didn't excite me in the least. No way, Jose. Absolutely not. The lady gave me dog biscuits. Yum. The next morning, on Christmas, she gave me eggs. Without any sand on them. Wowsers!

"They stayed around a couple days more and introduced me to some of their new friends. One guy named Lee, from Oregon, really took to me. I kept hearing him say to Ann and Terry (the motor home people) that he wanted to find a Baja beach dog to adopt. When I heard that, I was a little confused. Adopt? What did that mean? Everyone I ever got close to in Todos Santos left eventually. Did 'adopt' mean they didn't leave? I was hoping so. I started hanging really close to Lee.

"Then the motor home people left. But Lee didn't, thank God. I moved in with him and his group up on the bluff by the big palapa. Never had I eaten better food or gotten more love. It was the life, man! Then the motor home people came back. With a boy and a girl, no less,  who had apparently flown (like the birds?) into La Paz (wherever that is) after visiting their dad. I heard Lee tell the four of them that he couldn't adopt me after all, but that I'd be perfect for them. Perfect. Now that had a nice ring to it! Ann, Terry and the kids had a 'family conference,' which I eavesdropped on, of course.

"Oh my God! They decided to adopt me and take me to a vet (think ouch) in Loreto on their way home. So, next morning, the boy, Derek chased me down after my morning routine and led me to the motor home. Six days and countless adventures later, I reached my new residence. I now live in Cardiff-by-the-Sea where I have a choice of four couches to sleep on, fresh water on demand in one of two toilet bowls, a cat to chase (weirdo that she is), two boxers to play with next door, a harness, a leash (yuck!), a name tag and all kinds of majorly cool toys. Next week I even get to go get fixed --- whatever that means...."

© Ann Hazard, 2000. No part of this article may be reprinted without permission.
This story is featured in Ann's newest book, Agave Sunsets.
REPRINTED FROM THE COAST NEWS, January 20, 2000
 

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