Flea markets and yard sales are the best places to find storytellers. All you have to do is pause beside the tables heavy with things nobody needs any more, even you. Figurines, old boots, casserole dishes, record albums, tools, torn books, and whatnot.
Juan was selling figurines, shirts, tackle boxes and an array of things I didn't have a chance to see because Juan was so taken with Luci poking around under his table. "I like little dogs," he said....
To make a very long story short:
Juan and his wife had lost a baby back when the movie Cujo came out. "I didn't like dogs back then," he said, especially in the house--even though I am a Hispanic man. But she was so sad I gave in when one of our neighbors got a litter of chihuahuas. They looked like baby rats they were so little."
"But my wife fell in love with the boy who was the most trouble already. She named him after Cujo, the St. Bernard in the movie. We traveled a lot and took that little dog with us and he was he best dog ever. All the people at the motels loved Cujo and never charged us extra. He was smart and he followed my wife around everywhere she went. He was the son we never had, and he lasted us 19 years!"
Juan's story was filled with details about Cujo--dead now for nine years. "My wife says she can't ever get another dog and go through losing him."
I didn't buy anything from his table, just a succulent in a ceramic turtle for Elena from the plant lady at another table.
But his story touched me and reminded me of Tony and Ivan--and the many dogs who went with us in the car and hopped out and played in the creeks of the Hill Country. Tony lived 11 years, Ivan nearly 20. But their memories "lasted us" a lifetime, just like little Cujo.
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