The life of a Mexican Pirate 2005-22

You’ve seen Ground Hog Day. Well, that’s what I want in my next life. The exact life I had with Erik and Dezera. It was glorious. A dogs they say.

As a puppy I lived the hardscrabble life of a beach dog outside of Mulege, Baja California. I’d seen this American gringo couple hanging out on the beach. A girl has to be wary, and I was self conscious about my ears that had been hacked off square with a serrated knife. Who does that to a dog? Barbarians!

Well, the couple and I clicked. As Bogart said, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. And it was.

We bonded, and after they gave my lackadasical owner a hundred dollars we sailed across the border to a life I never knew could exist.

Me, a Mexican cur with two blacked pirate patches around my eyes, was about to become a U.S. citizen. Well, after some vaccinations and stuff. And I got to keep my original name. Pirata the pirate.

Surprisingly, my square ears picked up the English language quite easily, and the couple and I began to learn from one another. I was to be Erik’s and Dezera’s work dog and muse. Mind you, I had never raised couple before so we were all rookies going in.

On my first birthday they took me to Pet Smart, the Toys R Us for dogs. I thought I’d gone to doggy heaven. The smells… pig ears, cow hooves and jerky stick. Gawd it was incredible.

Still a beach dog at heart, I loved sneaking up on seagulls and listening to their complaining prehistoric squawks. It certainly put a grin on my lips. And there was wading in the shallows for hours at a time trying to catch fish. On one of our trips down to the Baja I did catch a fish, and was I strutting. I carted that critter around till my mouth became way too slimy.

I should have been simpatico with raccoons, the bandit/pirate mask connection, but not so much. We never really hit it off and there were many standoffs.

When I was about a year and a half, my ACL went. Both of them. My people ponied up for this $1,500 surgery and I was right as rain the rest of my life.

I was always a party animal and knew how to work a room to get all the ear scratching a gal can take. And I was pretty gabby. Letting my emotions out was cathartic. Erik called it chatty. Whatever. Hell yes, that’s what us girls do. A gal has to get her opinion out there.

Erik and I did a lot of construction work together. Well, I have to admit sometimes in the winter I stayed in the truck under a warm blanket. In bed I would snuggle down through the covers and radiate heat and lick toes until Erik and Dezera and I were all exhausted and fell asleep. Nothing like waking up next to your besties.

I was protective. Dezera was approached by some bozo once, and as he advanced on her, she turned me loose. He dropped his slurpy and booked. I was pretty cocky after that.

I was fixed early on, and I don’t know if I had much maternal instinct anyway. But, I was so deep in the throes of raising up Erik and Desiree that it never really come up. Sure there were guys wanting to date me, but I was a Diva, doing my thing.

Halloween was my favorite holiday. I loved venturing into other personalities. I was stunning dressed up as a pirate, a devil and once as superwoman with a cape and the works.

I also loved roller skating. Dezera is a world champion, and I loved hanging out in the rink and chasing the skaters.

I was also a calendar girl — Miss August 2007, in the Kitsap County Humane Society Calendar.

Did I mention my foodie life? I loved drive-in food. My favorite was the Vanilla Frosty at Wendy’s. Hold the fries. Don’t need those carbs. A girl has to watch her figure.

I lived for 16 1/2 years, which equates to 115 1/2 dog years.

I’m currently in my favorite habitat. Pushing up ground at the homestead in Eatonville. On a clear day I can see Mount Rainier. As Grandpa Pop Smith would say, “It was a dang good life.”