Thursday, June 14, 2012

Roadkill Cafe, Part 11

Chewy wasn’t hard to find.  He was all over the place, begging for someone to play with him.  He was so desperate, or perhaps took his name so seriously, that he chewed everything and everyone in sight.

Now, this might be considered endearing, and actually was, but the problem is, most living things don’t much like to be chewed.

The fact that Chewy himself didn’t seem to mind this distinction was part of his charm.  Yes, it was also annoying.

He started out small, as any puppy does, but he was destined to be a big dog, and this was no more evident than in the size of his paws.  They were, matter of fact, quite outsized, as was his need for love.  He was anxious about it, and didn’t take “no” for an answer, even when he got it, repeatedly.  In fact, he was sent into exile, and found the world suddenly more accommodating.  Suddenly all the rules shifted in his favor.  He had everywhere to roam, and all the dogs gravitated to him, wanted to be in his posse, looked up to and respected him.  Maybe it was because he was coming more and more into himself, was no longer so gawky, and directed his chewing to more specific objects…I don’t know.  I expect that it had less to do with Chewy changing so much as the world changing around him.

Had he really been so bad?  Did all he need was some new context?  Sometimes that’s the answer, and he was lucky enough to find it.  That’s what a dog’s life can be like.

Why this one, I asked Ribsy, and he looked away, suddenly anxious.  I wanted some answers.  I figured I deserved some.  I’d seen a lot now, and figured I knew something.

Does Chewy know any more now than he did before? Ribsy asked, and then trotted away.

Well, I don’t know how to answer that, I confessed.  According to you, it doesn’t really matter.

And it doesn’t, Ribsy said.

Ain’t that the truth, Foxy added.  I didn’t know when he’d returned, but I guess that’s Foxy.

Just tell me what it all means, I pleaded with them.  Tell me why any of them were at the Roadkill Café, why Champ, why Floyd, why Freckles, why Smokie and Hazel, why Rom and Jules, why Boo, why Remus and Tonks, why Jack and Jill, why Chewy…They don’t seem to do anything.  They don’t seem to have a purpose.  Is this some kind of purgatory?

Well, now that you mention it…

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