The Dying Dog (The Cowboys, Part 9)

The damsel and I are returning after burying my sister Pearl. At the side of the dirt path we encounter a dying dog: the poor creature is a mess but still alive. “Keep away from that,” I say to the damsel, who looks as though she’s about to follow her urge to dismount and tend to the creature: “don’t pet it; you’ll only catch fleas.” Thus we quietly pass by. But the dog starts to follow us. We’re heading back to the damsel’s hometown of Zacatecas, since my sister’s death put a stop to our scheduled adventure. I look down and notice that my blouse is still covered in Pearl’s lifeblood. “I need a bath,” I remark. Then I ask: “Is that dog still trailing us?” The damsel glances back and says: “No, it seems that he’s found a pond to drink from.” This perks me up: “Fresh water?” I say; “and it’s not a mirage?” So we head over, and the dog runs off as we approach. Dismounting before the shoreline, we take a moment to pray; then the damsel and I wash our clothes as well as ourselves. The scene ends in a beautiful session of physical lovemaking.