"IT'S A DOG'S LIFE..."
"THAT'S WHAT YOU SAY, NOT ME," sez Mikey.
In this picture I am standing just outside a bamboo forest near Santa Olaya, PR which for sometime was my home, until one day about a month ago when I suddenly showed up on the porch of Lillian and Jan's house in Santa Olaya, while they were having dinner.
I sat down near them, and next thing you know they're calling me Mikey, short for Michael the Arcangel. Miguelito, in Spanish. Angelo Miguel, Michaelangelo. Well, you can call me whatever you want, "just don't call me late for dinner." Speaking of which, dinners have been pretty good of late. Too much of that dried Purina Dog Chow to my taste, but lately he's been giving me some of his own left-overs from dinner - dog bones and the like - which is fine by me. Anything beats lizzards and the roadside stuff I had to dig up previously.
For instance, last night he had steak (again) and after I looked him hard in the eye for about 15 minutes, he broke down, cut me off a piece and gave me the bone as well.
I know, breakfast and lunch, (and probably breakfast tomorrow) was a bowl of that dried up stuff. Hey, it's a living. Who am I to complain?
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MIKEY
Casa Mulero
Mulero Valley
Santa Olaya, PR