A Stray Dog in Little Haiti Loses His Bitch

Categories: Culture
It's hard out here in these streets, especially on overcast days like today. Dog days of summer, y'all -- gray and humid and shit. Everything's crazy and I'm really going through it. I'm lost like a motherfucker. It's been two weeks since the shit went down. I lost my bitch, best friend and my life, all in one moment.

We were rolling in Little Haiti -- NW Second Avenue and the 50s, owning the block, just chillin' -- doin' what we do. Then that dog-pounding Jake rolled up on us like what. Out of nowhere, two of them. We split, ran like the wind.

They shot my dawg with a tranquilizer and he fell against the curb like dice in a C-low game. I seen that shit like damn. I wanted to help, but then I seen Jake roll up on my bitch and I was like nah, that ain't happening. I turned to the dog catcher, but then the other Jake busted some caps on me so my dog-eat-dog instincts kicked in fast and I just started running.

I ain't even look back. I'm saying...these streets are fucking hard. At the end of the day, you need to look out for yourself. That's just the way it is. We lose peeps all the time -- some straight up get run-over; some get adopted, right off the street. Shit. Most get locked up. Dang. We've all been locked up. Many find homes yet wind up back on the streets anyhow.

But this time was different; something happened inside County. A distemper break-out spread like Contagion and those motherfuckers at County put every dog down. Just like that, son -- a holocaust. Word's all over the street. Fuck. I'm trying to be strong but under this fur I'm crawling in my skin.

God can't be this cruel. I miss my bitch so much. We were finally gonna drop our first litter. And I wasn't gonna be like these other dawgs all running from bitch to bitch dropping shorties all around town. That ain't me. I loved that bitch, we could communicate, she was my boo. I trusted her.

I don't know -- this ain't right. I understand shit changes, dogs change, mentalities change. But what the fuck comes next? I'm kicking it the last week with some homeless dude at Margaret Pace Park -- it's easier to get food with a human -- but this motherfucker is mean. He kicks me and tries to intimidate with fear. I only stay cause I'm hungry and lonely. 

Fuck. I can't stop thinking bout this bitch. I don't see the point anymore. Ain't no God. Ain't no justice. Ain't nothing but that Venetian Bridge in the background of the park. I've been looking at that bridge too much lately.

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J.J. Colagrande
J.J. Colagrande

Author's note--

During the distemper break-out the "bitch" in question was in fact rescued by a canine advocacy group out of West Palm Beach. She currently resides on a farm in Wellington.

Her litter should drop any day now.

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