My favorite eclipse: Part 2

I spent the rest of my time in Mexico cleaning up after the puppy and caring for him. Thank goodness we had already seen the eclipse.

During my time in La Paz, Mexico to watch the 1991 total solar eclipse, my cousin Pete and the two guys that drove from L.A. and I went out sailboarding and dinners out. We were carefree and having fun.

One night we saw a small puppy on a street corner, shivering and yelping. I insisted Pete pull over. I picked up the little tan colored puppy and brought him back into the car. He snuggled against me.

The guys thought I was crazy for picking him up. They voted to leave him on the corner. “The locals abandon their dogs all the time, certain that the gringos would save them,” said Pete.

“They're right! I'm saving him.”

Once back at Pete's house, I spread papers all over my carpeted room. It didn't help, the poor thing couldn't control his bowels. I spent the rest of my time in Mexico cleaning up after the puppy and caring for him. Thank goodness we had already seen the eclipse.

“Please find me a vet,” I asked Pete.

After an initial visit, the vet stopped the pup's immediate bowel problems, and upon another visit, gave him his shots and filled out a card that allowed him to travel. I wasn't leaving the little guy behind! Even though the vote was three against one to leave him. I got pretty fierce about taking him.

Preparing for the journey back, I scrubbed the carpet in my room another time, got food and water for the puppy. Packed a couple of towels in case of mistakes. I wasn't sure how often Pete would stop for potty breaks, seeing he wasn't fond of the puppy.

The Country Squire station wagon was easy to pack for our return trip back to California. This time I had the whole back seat, one guy rode in front and one guy hugging the luggage in the back. Pete, of course, was driving.

It was once again a long journey but I had the puppy. He entertained us, being held by the two guys who wanted to leave him.

At the Mexico/U.S. border, I stuffed the pup under the towels at my feet. “Not a peep out of you,” I said to him as he looked up at me. I had the paperwork to get him across the border but I wasn't sure the papers would prevent a border guard from taking him.

“Anything to declare?” said a guard to Pete.

“Some fish oil,” Pete told the guard, and then told him why he had bought so much. Sounded made up but not to the border cop who waved up across the border.

And that was it. We cruised into California without surrendering up my precious cargo.

Eclipsé (Yes, I named him after the solar spectacle.) felt right at home at my little house. He loved his twice daily walks. He moved in tune with me and slept on my bed, taking up half of it as he had grown into a BIG dog.

Fast forward nine years to 2000. Eclipsé was the size of a small tank, barked relentlessly at the mailman, claimed my grandkids as his teddy bears when they visited, would never recall when he broke free and ran down the street, wouldn't bite neighbors who helped catch him, he played tug of war in the backyard until he wore me out, sat patiently at the kitchen door (no begging), turned life into a love fest and broke my heart when he died at nine-years-old from cancer, on my birthday. A complete solar eclipse.

What was a girl to do? Don't turn your back on a stray puppy. Could be the best move of a lifetime.