RezDog Sez

Yá’átééh, my name is RezDog. I was born on the Navajo (Dine) Nation in Ganado, New Mexico. Long about the time I was 5 ½ months old, I went to the Hubbell Trading Post where an art event, directly supporting the local Arizona and New Mexico Indians, was taking place and open to the public. I was there checking everyone out, and seeing who were tossing the remains of their lunch; delightful Indian tacos, they’re great and I was hungry.

Anyways, there was a nice tourist couple who were worried that I would be hit by one of those cars, there at the Trading Post, which ravaged this town. Well, the nice couple carried me around for part of the day and kept asking people if someone wanted to care for me. They had a Poodle and felt that we were just not right for each other, because she was…was…well; I don’t really know what she was. I was taking advantage of the being carried around like the prince I think I am.

So… there is this lady standing and staring at me and my nice couple of friends, and of course they asked her if she wanted a dog. She started crying real tears; you know how women are. She said she had just lost her Rhodesian Ridgeback only ten days ago to cancer, and that she was supposed to go on this trip with him. She said she was looking forward to having his company while on her buying trip for her gallery. Gee wiz, she kept crying. Hey lady, get on with it - answer the question. Do you want me? I’m homeless, hungry, young, arrogant, and dapper looking all rolled into one, and my facial markings are that of the Indian Prince I think I am. She finally took me and we went into the art show and spent the day together. Yeah it was good, and she ordered one of those Indian tacos. I had to eat most of it - too bad for her. I guess she doesn’t have an appetite like mine.

At the end of the day she coached me into her truck. Man, what a big honker it is. It went back four rows and had lots of Navajo rugs in it. I jumped from the front seat back to the next row, then to the next row, and then I laid down on this sweet stack of Navajo weavings. As I laid down, I gave her one of my more dapper looks… the kind that says, “I’m cool, I’m cute, and I’m hungry again”. Hmmm, I’m comfortable too. Let’s go lady this is great. That night she decided to head back to San Diego, where she was from, a two days trip she said. Have you ever heard of it? I hadn’t. The first night, on the way to San Diego, she stopped at a store and picked up bottle of gooey stuff. We went to a motel and she gave me a toy. What do I know about toys! Well I know now, it’s a bribe. Then she starts putting this goo on me with lots of water. Whoa, get me out of here. I’m wet, I don’t like it and this goo -what is it?

Life went on as did the goo baths. We made it to San Diego and I was beginning to like her and as always, I was hungry again. When we arrived at her home a man and a dog came out. I wrapped myself around her neck and said Ya Ta Hey to them - I’m friendly. We got out and you know what? - it’s okay here in this place called San Diego.

Funny, but the first thing I did when I went into their house was run upstairs right into their bedroom and then into the closet. I pulled out a slipper and put in on the nice feather bed on the floor. The bed smelled good, like other guys like me had been there. The lady - I know her name now, it’s Tina. The man - his name is Cliff, the other dog’s name is Cayla… all they would do is stare at me. I think all of them must have realized that I am dapper, cute, cool, and resemble the Indian Price I think I am. They keep staring. What’s the deal I think? Come to find out, the Rhodesian Ridgeback always took Tina’s slipper in his time of stress and would lay with it on that feather bed. I think we were all feeling its Karma!

Well, the story of my life goes on and has already been an adventure for me, the little Navajo dog relocated from Ganado New Mexico. I’ll write more later if you want me to, but right now, you know me....I’m hungry.

Ahéhee’- bee’ak’ihojídlíhii (Thank you-blessings)
Rez
rez@gatheringfeathers.com