The Tale of El Guapo


Part 6

El Guapo Catches the Little Girl

Today is not an ordinary day. It is still morning, and yet everyone is already mad at me. Even the little girl. For the first time ever, I made the little girl scream like a banshee. I didn’t do it intentionally, I thought we were playing.

I had found her father’s fishing pole. I would run to the end of the pole, grab the line, and pull it with all my might. Every time I ran with the line, the pole would make a wonderful whirling, buzzing noise. What fun!

But the little girl found me and got upset because there was still a fishhook attached to the end of the line. She grabbed hold of the line and tried to pull it away from me. That was fun too, so I pulled right back.

That’s when the little girl loosed that terrible scream. Somehow the fishhook had embedded itself into the side of her hand. She screamed and sobbed, and screamed some more.

Moments later her father appeared with her mother right behind. The girl was screaming too much to tell them of what was wrong. I did my best to help, but they just ignored me. Soon enough the father found the fishhook.

Her mother wanted to rush the girl to the doctor, but the father assured them he could get it out. He fished a pair of nail-clippers out of a pants pocket and quickly snipped the fishing line loose from the hook.

He then took the time to explain to the little girl and her mother how he was going to remove the hook. First he will count to three, then gently pull on the hook, slowly work it little by little, until it finally pulls free.

He must have got confused though, because as he counted two, he suddenly jerked the hook out in one swift motion. Once again the little girl screamed with all her might.

She and her mother both were angry at her father. He explained that he was sorry, but it was something that had to be done. Soon she had a bandage covering her injury.

I thought everything seemed to be working out okay, and even better, no one was mad at me. But then someone had to asked how it happened that the fishhook came to be in her hand. The little girl glared, pointed an accusing finger straight toward me, and snarled, “Him! He did it!”

Again I find myself tied to the family’s favorite fencepost. I have food and water, but I have little appetite. Usually I bark at birds, or chew on the rope to stay busy, but not today. Somehow it just doesn’t seem right that the little girl should be mad at me too; she’s never been mad at me before.

All too soon, the sun is down and the evening air is growing cool.

Finally someone comes from the house. It’s the little girl. As she approaches, I rollover on my back, and try to give the best “I’m so sorry” look that I can manage. She reaches down, scoops me up and gives me a tight squeeze. Then she says, “I’m not mad at you anymore. I still love you.” Suddenly that crazy tail of mine goes completely out of control, and she carries me inside.

Tonight I will watch television with the family. Tonight we watch “Funniest Home Videos.” Tonight disaster strikes again.

—El Guapo (rabid by choice)
(via ghost writer)

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