On Jul 20, 2015, at 5:25 PM, Caroline Cooper <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
I have fallen in love with a local street dog and am considering very seriously ways and means of her repatriation. Name is SiSi. It is not lost on me that I refer to this possibility as an act of repatriation.
Feeling certain that SiSi is a creature of Manhattan who has somehow gotten mixed up in this whole Guatemalan business and simply needs her shots and a good bath, as we all do.
Have vowed to resolve entire situation by lunch. Return flight routed through Panama. Larger concern for response of US immigration, possibly the Panamanians. Happily SiSi is not too big and there is therefore hope for disguise in handbag, copious quelling via treats. Also feel strongly SiSi would be big hit in South Bronx.
That is all.
On Jul 20, 2015, at 5:25 PM, Super Good Friend <Buddy@waddawadda.com> wrote:
It is very kind of you to care for SiSi. Personally, I’ve been very disappointed in the total lack of humor and humanitarian spirit at US immigration. I’ve heard tales of paperwork paperwork paperwork and long quarantines. But perhaps you will find them more pliant. Better yet, have another passenger take SiSi through customs and immigration for you. I’m reminded of the hilarious episode of will and Grace when Karen makes her maid smuggle black pearls I’m her purse. Of course, Rosario goes to jail, but it’s funny for the viewer.
Has the trip been a success????
On Jul 21, 2015, at 3:28 PM, Caroline Cooper <email@example.com> wrote:
Trip a wild success. Have found my spirit animal (Sisi) and my vacation animal– the lake is beautiful, I am up every morning at the crack’o, engaging in all manner of yoga and meditation and am deeply considering getting my aura read by a man named Bill who is in situ and who has kindly made his services available to all. Have gone fully tropo, entirely vegetarian, and am deeply concerned about my chakras. I have had not a thing to drink and coffee rattles me to my bones. In short, I suspect I am rapidly becoming completely insufferable. Naturally, all of this makes me extremely happy. Must run now to a guided meditation.
On Jul 22, 2015, at 9:17 PM, Caroline Cooper <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
This is me, the essence of me. If only little Sisi could come home with me! She so loved this particular mane. Her taste is impeccable, claro. It’s how I know she IS my dog.
On Jul 23, 2015, at 4:50 AM, Super Good Friend <Buddy@waddawadda.com> wrote:
I’m Welling up with tears of joy! Joy I tell you. Break through idea- what if Sisi returns either in your wig box, or as your wig?
On Jul 23, 2015, at 9:46 AM, Caroline Cooper <email@example.com> wrote:
Yes– she must. I love Sisi like the earth loves to spin. A constant compulsion that won’t take no for an answer!
Last night she was back in my cabin, happily swaddled in the bed clothes of my duffle and, let’s finally be honest, my bed. I just brush the fleas away in the morning and march along with the day. Simple! Such a love. I have already been “spoken to” twice about the “issue” of “animals” in my “living space” whatever any of that means. Onward, Sisi!
I have spent some time on the US immigration sites and have gleaned the main points of rabies shots. Trouble is the forms all need to be dated at least a month prior to attempted entry to US which means I need to hot tail it to Guatemala City– Guat, as the dread place is locally referred– and find some corrupt vet. How hard could that be? Have you heard me speak Spanish, btw? It is a joy and a wonder to the ears of all. Mostly, and I don’t know what is going on with this, but mostly it is Indonesian that comes out of my mouth. So I repeat my main questions: “Munkin? Sedikit? Apa ini??”
Real talk– do you know any lawyers in the Guat? Barring that, any corrupt vets? Perhaps a corrupt vet who is an aspiring lawyer? Any variation will do. A judge?
Other fun point of Sisi immigration is that she would be subjected to a once-over by the officials who would, God knows how, attempt to determine by way of visual assessment the presence of such nuisances as “screwworm” which, by demarcation in quotes, I mean to suggest the charade-like nature of all this and by all this I mean screwworm, immigration officials, once-overs….. honestly, people. Let’s call it like we see it and I’m calling it now– the dog is a Manhattanite. Let her come home.
Guatemala is dead to Sisi! God save Guatemala!!!!
On Jul 23, 2015, at 12:59 PM, Caroline Cooper <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
I AM IN CRISIS MODE.
Last night before our evening snuggles, the neighbor of the place where I am staying THREATENED SISI’S LIFE!!!! Apparently dear Sisi was having her nightly squabbles with herself, as we all do, and it was a bit loud and there might have been the odd bark, who knows, and the neighbor well lward she has HAD IT and came storming out– I have this on good information though it is second hand– and confronted other residents of my Kumbaya-Namesti compound and said “If you don’t shut that dog up I’m going to shut her up permanently” or some such nonsense.
HAS THE WHOLE WORLD LOST ITS MIND?!?! Now I must move mas rapido, mas rapido and BRING SISI home!! This is utter madness. I am really in a state.
Ay dios mio….
On Jul 23, 2015, at 3:05 PM, Caroline Cooper <email@example.com> wrote:
IF we reread the first line of my last email, I appear to suggest I was snuggling with the homicidal neighbor and JUST to be clear that was and is decidedly NOT the case. I refer ever and always to the love Sisi Dog.
Could not move forward with my life and times without first clarifying that vital point…
On Jul 24, 2015, at 5:59 AM, Super Good Friend <Buddy@waddawadda.com> wrote:
You know. Threatening to kill a neighbor is never welcome. Wishing that a neighbor dies is fine. Talking to other neighbors about how you wish a neighbor would die is maybe ok, but threatening is just plain rude. I know, because I live in the shadow of my neighbor Esther Stevens not dying, and I always have to test how much I can or can not express out load.
Hopefully, this was all in Spanish and you and poor SiSi were spared the indecent talk.
Well, I’m afraid my network of attorney contact does not stretch to Guatemala (belum, as they say in Indonesia). But i would take U.S. immigration very seriously. Let’s assume, arguendo, that they care deeply about protecting American pets and livestock and such from foreign diseases. They could take SiSi at the border and have her put down. Not a great ending for this little devil. I think we also have to assume, that as a denizen of the streets, she has, shall we say, come across some more common pests. So, my advice would be to get her cleaned up, find a thorough vet, and wrap her in the cozy confidence of being legal. Otherwise, she’ll spend her whole life thinking John McCain wants to send her back to Mexico with the rest of the hardworking Dogs living illegally in the U.S.
Does she have any academic interest? Perhaps we can get her a student visa?
On Jul 24, 2015, at 4:15 PM, Caroline Cooper <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
You have shared much sense and enlightenment. Of course this has not been easy. But the prospect of botching the job and losing Sisi to the horrible hands of her TRUE assassins– those bastards at the border (or JFK, as it were) is entirely too much for me. Heard and understood.
Plus, horror of horrors, a tubby little boy who goes by the handle “Daniel” and who speaks but one word of English and it is “Yes” (as in: “Daniel, are you going to love and honor and obey Sisi all of your days?” “Yes.” “Daniel, are you the devil incarnate hellbent on Sisi’s ultimate misery and destruction?” “Yes.”) Well, Daniel has appeared and has provided fairly substantial evidence of ownership if not, exactly, superior stewardship of the wonderful Sisi.
Sigh. Of course Sisi is the wonder-dog of a little Yes man named Daniel who hasn’t even cleared his first decade on this God-lost planet….
At any rate, we said our silent goodbyes, of a sort, last night when the place where I am staying all but MARCHED me to the cleaners with my bedding, the Sisi-haters, and yet while the top sheet was trying in westerly breezes, a corner of it came down. Around 1 am Sisi pulled it off the line, arrived at my door and proceeded to make herself most at home on the second bed– my original resting spot– and who could refuse the little bean? I quickly turned off the light and began speaking in tongues, lest any proprietors of this Sisi-denying establishment swoop by to set up late night checkpoints.
What it must be to be Sisi the wonderdog. I can only shake my fists at the sky and sigh in wonderment. Though our time together has been short, it has been entirely too significant. Releasing the dream of Sisi is going to be a process, and I will require heavy sedation at time of departure later this month, under cover of dark and swaddled in scarves, BUT I have also begun combing dog rescue websites in the State of New York for a little love bean that might, just might, also respond to the lovely, indomitable, power-name: SISI
It is a road…. it is a road….
On Jul 25, 2015, at 10:19 AM, Super Good Friend <Buddy@waddawadda.com> wrote:
The long goodbye is the hardest. And also the best.
I see Sisi as a modern day mary poppins. The breeze blew her in when you most needed her. For you, she took the form of a dog, and taught your Bronx clad heart to love again. And now, she’ll teach Daniel what he needs to learn. How to lick your own penis or something like that. But I’m sure she will not stay a dog for long.
How do you feel about bees? I’m importing some Italian ones as we speak. They are golden and jubilant, and I’m confident I can teach them to cuddle.
On Jul 26, 2015, at 7:13 PM, Caroline Cooper <email@example.com> wrote:
Well, I have good news and I have bad news. Such is the way of the world and its infinite dualities. We’ll start with the good:
I adore bees and give them my full respect, especially in this time when they are so much under siege and seem to be rapidly disappearing, taking their delicious product with them. Why do we do what we do to this planet? How wonderful of you to husband these particular bees and release them from the jail cell that is Italy. I am certain they will thrive under your careful care and guidance.
Did I ever tell you my grandfather, Kenneth Cooper, was a bee keeper his whole life? He spotted an opportunity to produce and sell honey up on the dusty plains of Colorado during WWII when sugar was off making weapons or something. He didn’t make a fortune (not like these Japanese guys in the internment camp that neighbored my father’s house– there were 2 Japanese brothers there that figured something out about lettuce production and went on to literally rule our lettuce world in the US, a funny story that my dad still talks about in a tone of wistful awe as in, don’t you get that you’re just in jail for racist, xenophobic reasons?!!? Why do you have to go ahead and dominate our economy while you’re at it? Can’t you just sit back and do your time?!) Anyway, Grandpa Cooper didn’t make a fortune but he did well enough to support his family. My father and aunt were raised on the golden dollar of the honey hive!
Ah, I digress. Bees, bees, bees, please. I have fond memories of noodling around Grandpa Cooper’s hives and feel certain I have gleaned and glossed an amount of bees knowledge that could serve you well should you ever need to call upon a native daughter. Consider me at your service.
Ach, now to the bad: Sisi has not been seen in almost a week. No one quite sure what to make of this development. A local waiter posited to me that Sisi might have been simply carted off to another town and dropped there. Another resident mused that Sisi could be just locked up somewhere, kept under key after all the commotion of late. Of course, the death threat continues to loom large… ugh. I have no idea what to think but have done my damnedest to channel the love Sisi during my daily meditation sessions.
My usual bowl of little treats outside my door went untouched until the Director Del Campo said “Por favore Carolina please remove-o los treat-os….” I grudgingly complied, as I must. When in residence, one must abide by the rules and regulations of The Host. I prefer to go wild and free and thus have secured a small tree house rental for my last night in Guatemala– no joke. From up there I hope to sleep and channel and, God willing, perch high with a small pair of birding binoculars, eager for any Sisi sighting that might be possible. Sisi!! Please send her dear love and kind thoughts especially as and when you might be crossing in ferry to and from work. Sisi so loved the water and was an eager and avid swimmer, through both local lake and life.
I feel certain I will have a dog one day soon, just a few logistics to work out. I had a little psychic session with said Director Del Campo last week. She peddles in the powers of the Occult, you see. Before our meeting she asked me to tell her about myself and then, very seriously and with bows to the seven directions and seas, to share what I felt I saw in my future.
My response: “To be honest, I’d like to have a dog.”
So it goes.