Harpo

y mother has been pissed at me since the moment I returned from Ecuador. She’s getting more pissed because I’m pretending not to notice.

To make a long story short, my buddies live at least 1 hour away. I was gone for 1 month and 3 days, and will be gone again in 4 weeks for 1 semester. I am 20 years old. In America, it would be considered normal that I am never home.

My mother however has deemed me selfish, probably rightfully so, because throughout my antics I neglected to love the family dog Harpo. It’s not enough that I drop by, feed her, and manage her droppings. And I do it so reluctantly too.

I admit the few non-obligatory encounters I’ve had with Harpo since my return involved shoving her violently off my bed, kicking her in the face for begging, and shouting that if she doesn’t get the fuck out of my way I’ll slice off one of her erect ears.

My mother wonders, and now I wonder. What has happened to me that I’m not drawn to that fluffy and spirited terrier anymore? What did that nation do to me that I’ve lost the passion to spoil her? Where did I get the heart to resist that wittle face?

She would not be eaten, sacrificed, or made to pull cannery carts in Ecuador or anything like that. She would probably just be mangy, cancer-ridden, and ignored. In Ecuador there are no grooming businesses or dog shows or movies with astute dogs that play basketball.