Waiting for breakfast, I observed my ocean-side cracked table tottering as if it experienced a minor earthquake- once ivory- now the color of the underside of a flip-flop at the Chez Baby Cafe. The pink skinned beach dog had been scratching his ear and belly nonstop for the past three minutes as the ocean eternally advances and retreats. Imagine living in the idyllic beach town of Toubab Dialaw only to experience fleas, ticks, skin rashes and hunger.
Can a dog with droopy teats or swaying testicles perpetually ready to breed more yelping misery into the world dream of reincarnation and the material comforts of a pampered Toy Poodle next time around?
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