Mr Myrtle's Tale (and Ears)

Mr Myrtle Sir has been with me since the moment he was born - with a heart on his belly, and when I called him - in Jamaica, where we lived until he was almost a year and a half old.

...born with a heart on his belly... (Photo: Ann Cognito 2015)

He's a Jamaican Shepherd, which isn't yet recognized as a breed but should be.They are brilliant, strong, devoted, and everything else that other Shepherds are - but half the size, so they curl up nicely under an airplane seat, which is handy, because they're such good support and service dogs.

They are unbelievably loving, because Jamaica is not a good place to be a dog, so they love a human who cares with the hearts of their whole species. They swim like fish, and run like - well, like a Jamaican! They also eat coconut, and have super sonic radar mogwai ears.

Mogwai Vs Coconut (Photo: Ann Cognito 2015)

Mr Myrtle Sir is far too dear to have even considered leaving him behind, so he became the first Jamaican dog ever to come to Peru.

A Jamaican Puppyfish in the Sacred Valley of the Incas.. (Photo: Ann Cognito 2016)

Why Peru? Answering that would involve a lot of why Jamaica, and more why's before those, and then this would not be about Mr Myrtle Sir. Suffice to say, we followed our hearts. I might go a little sidewards sometimes following mine, but Mr Myrtle has a heart on his belly and following his usually works better.

Things went differently than expected in Peru.

Things went differently than expected in Peru... (Photograph by Ann Cognito, 2016)

More Stairs (Photo : Ann Cognito 2016)

Mr Myrtle was bitten on his tail by the understandably unstable canine familiar of a cursed shaman - he's had a white spot there ever since. I learned that backwards and back are not the same word.

We came back to Canada, and due to things continuing to go oddly, to Calgary, a city where I knew exactly two people and had no actual reasons to be in, except that that's where an apartment we could have turned up.

Canada, and Calgary, are lovely places, but not for me and this coconut puppyfish. We're cold, and I hurt. My health has gone downhill quicker than Mr Myrtle and I ran down that mountain in Pisaq, and it's taking longer than I thought to get the ducks and 'dactyls in a row.

Three blankets, a pillow, and a hot water bottle. (Photo: Ann Cognito 2018)

Mr Myrtle, though, is brilliant and brave and dear. He's managing being here, and taking care of me, too. He helps me cross the street because I can hardly move my neck, and things like that. Mostly, he wakes me up licking my nose, reminding me that he believes in me. He watches beach videos on youtube when it's -40 Celcius (which is the same as -40 Fahrenheit, i think) and reminds me we'll get back to those places. He takes me for walks and helps me find pieces of beautiful even in the middle of a big North American city. He stops and breathes deep when the wind carries a shred of ocean from across the mountains, and makes sure I don't miss that tiny promise. He is the most blessed puppy ever, and that reminds me constantly that the world is a good place.

He also reminds me that a lot of things are more important than being stuck to a laptop.

A puppyfish on your lap is always more important than anything on a laptop. ("The Disconcerting Taxi" Photo taken by a friend in 2016).