Rudolfo Carrillo is a graduate student in the English Department at the University of New Mexico. His recent work includes publication in the journal Rigorous, a presentation on Borderlands Shakespeare at the Second Annual Justice and Revolutionary Thought Conference at NMSU, and a virtual appearance at the University of Dayton’s Metal and Change Conference, where he spoke on the work of Canadian rock band Rush. Formerly, Carrillo was the news editor and music editor of Weekly Alibi, where he often wrote as August March. Before that, he was one of the bloggers at Duke City Fix. In his spare time, he paints beautiful pictures of life on Earth.
EDITOR’S DISCALIMER: Following is a guest column written by Rudolfo Carrillo who gave consent to publish his column on www.PeteDinelli.com. Mr. Carillo was not compensated for the article.
HEADLINE: The Dependent Arising of Butterz, a Dog in Albuquerque, By Rudolfo Carrillo
You might be wondering what I’ve been doing these days. Or you might be wondering what I did in the before time. As it happens, I spent about ten hours this past weekend trying to explain all of that to people who might be interested in what I have to say, what I have to write. And I wrote a whole lot, 1500 words worth, that was mostly about politics in this town. Mostly. To make the piece humorous, I wrote it in the style common at my old hangout, a place in cyberspace now long forgotten.
After reading it though, after having my long-time editor read through it too, I decided that what I had done should be tossed right into the bin. I was reminded that I once said to myself, a long time ago, firmly and like an old time and weary Wizard of Wor, that I should get out of the political diatribe business and put aside the cultural commentary spiel that I had used like a cudgel made out of overcooked enchiladas.
I reckon that in this day and age, with so much questionable stuff going on in the world, in the state, in our community, that I’d be better off to write about something good, uplifting, and mindful, because all that really matters is kindness.
It’s with that conceit clearly in view that I present to you, dear readers, aficionados of la politica, supporters of la cultura, and bearers of the flag of progressive, inclusive democracy, the story of Butterz, a local dog.
Back at the end of December, on the 24th day of that oddly warm and dry month, I went to visit the City’s Animal Welfare Shelter on the westside of town; and mano, is it ever on the westside of town. I thought I was nearly to Califas by the time I rolled up.
En serio, mi esposa had a dental appointment down near Atrisco that day, so I figured I would have plenty of time to see what was up at the shelter.
The place was clean, quiet, and staffed with a number of kind and professional local humans. After speaking to them, I was directed to an elderly little terrier who had been living at the shelter for about a month; his owners had surrendered him. Cisco, as he was known back then, had health problems and whomever adopted him would have to sign a medical waiver noting the ostensibly fragile state of his health.
He was a friendly little hombre, quiet and sleepy, and I decided to take him back to mi chante. “I will call him Butterz”, I told the staff as they lovingly loaded him into my SUV. The next two months passed quickly, and it became clear that Butterz had trouble eating. He never seemed really hungry and often left much of his food behind.
We took him to a local vet who said toda la situacion was due to complications from his dental surgery. As Butterz had been in the shelter for an extended stay, he had received top-flight veterinary care, including a dental procedure where most of his rotten teeth were removed. He also had a persistent oral-nasal fistula, which, did not heal properly after it was fixed, a common occurrence. Our own vet concurred about the dental complications, but hypothesized that there might be other problems contributing to his long-term lack of appetite.
The surgery to correct Butterz dental complications and investigate his lack of appetite would be risky and expensive.
But in an of an occurrence of beautifully timed and succinctly graceful grace, the City of Albuquerque Animal Welfare Department, under the awesome direction of Carolyn Ortega, allowed our vet to work with an amazing nonprofit, Albuquerque Kennel Kompadres, to make sure Butterz could be properly treated for what ailed him. The surgery was scheduled and happened during UNM’s spring break, by the way.
The thing was, after the operation, Butterz still would not eat. And he looked pale and wan. And he began vomiting and shaking. I borrowed $200 from mi sobrina, Ciara, and rushed him back to our vet. They gave him a huge dose of subcutaneous fluids and an anti-nausea medication, in a noble effort to flush out his failing biological systems. If he did not improve overnight, he was to be checked into hospital the next morning for a full series of radiographs and possibly, emergency surgery.
I took Butterz home and feared for the worst. He was obviously unwell and had probably been ill when he was surrendered to the shelter; maybe that’s why his people gave up on him, I speculated. But I was determined to ride it out with him. Anyway, at eight that evening Butterz grew frantic and literally ran to the back of the house. He squatted. There was blood.
And then, something miraculous happened. The water did its work on his insides. Perhaps someone upstairs fancied his funny face, quien sabe? Butterz began to expel a cloth and plastic eyeglass retainer that was at least 20 inches long! A mean old snake, it came slithering out of him in a scene that would have put David Cronenberg to shame. When I realized what was happening, I took a deep breath and helped him, slowly, carefully coaxing the poisonous cagada out of him.
I was shocked. To say he was relieved would be an understatement. Afterwards, he wandered over to the couch, jumped up on it for the first time ever, and fell into a deep sleep. I took photos of the serpent and preserved it in a plastic bag. The next day, one doc thought that he may have lived with the monster inside of his gut for months, a la!
That morning, Butterz ate a whole can of dog food. And the day after that, and the day after that, too. And his digestive issues disappeared. And he grew strong and confident, un panzón in the making. And now here we are in April, nearly a month later. I am writing this and Butterz is stretched on the floor, next to my other terrier, Izzy. They are waiting for their second breakfast, like good little perritos. My famous poodle, Falkor, is sleeping with his special spiky ball, in the next room.
Meanwhile, the world is a mess. All sorts of very difficult-to-grok things are happening or may happen. But there is good in the world and miracles happen all of the time. For example, we are all connected, all dependent on one another, even the animals. And I can prove it.
Butterz would have never survived had not the director at the Animal Welfare Department patiently listened to what I told her and then hooked our vet up with Kennel Kompadres of Albuquerque. That intersection of forces and forms allowed an old and venerable chulo to have the medical treatments needed to discern and resolve his main physical issues, saving his life. The caring demonstrated by those organizations, and their respective leadership, goes beyond politics, and into a lofty realm we should all aspire towards.
That’s really what matters: that there is something worth fighting for; a set of ideas and values worth sticking together through, something grand and diffuse that resides in the power community wields. Despite whatever tempests or eyeglass retainers may asail our fragile forms, they will pass. And that’s super padre, compadres.