Who knows… it’s noon and I hear someone yelling from outside our boat. It’s in Dutch of German or something I can’t place because I’m asleep. I say, “what… huh? ok.” And then she says in clear English, “Over here!” while waving from the window. This is the last clear English she will speak.
“oh… yes…” I answer putting on my glasses and walking to the window.
I thought it was about the trash outside in the can. I don’t know when trash day is.
Then I thought it was about the keys that have been in the door since last night – apparently.
And then I realize it is about the dog, that is barking, and has been barking for an hour, and occasionally woke me up, but not enough to do anything about.
She leads me across the road to a cool little boxer/mix that is tied to a very short leash up against a fence. But, if abandoned, the owners did a great job showing love by leaving a box of water near her mouth. (since trampled upon and leaking.)
She asks to call the police.
“What number?” I ask.
“Don’t know,” she replies. “Do you have a phone book?”
We’re looking through the book for the cops. “I don’t have a phone.” I gesture with a shrug and a phone sign with my thumb and pink and a “NO” with my hands.
She flags down some local kids who call the cops…
I’m thinking – even if i did call the cops. What the shit do I say when they ask where I am?
Either way, the cops show and Susan wakes up and we’re doing our best to tell them whats up and they haul the mutt off…
But all I can wonder is, what if lost dogs in Holland are handled with a gun shot and thanks for the phone call kid? What if I drag the wife out of bed and introduce her to the cops and tell her about the phonebook and the lack of cell phone and the box of water and all she see’s is the cop pull out his gun and fire and say, “thanks for the call, Mister.”