The dog who would not be silenced will bark no more. I am still sort of in shock. Apparently the night of Friday the 13th, Sixto was struck and killed by a car up Highway 299. I will miss the hell out of that canine. He was the beast who taught me to love dogs.
More words later, I'm sure, but for now I'll post the poetry of my friend.
Requiem For A Conquistador
By The Girth:
You were born in a hard summer. I remember, the summer my father died. Your own master heartbroken, an intoxicated disconsolate youth. Later, we would chide you, the grown dog, for your irascible frustrations. Calm down boy. So paranoid. So angry. But I remember the puppy. Standing guard, hardening, for the good of the herd. You hated tweakers. Weren't too fond of small people. Didn't initially like women. Rarely took to other dogs. There was Ace of course. But he was kind of a wolf. And Quilan, who understood you. As sub will understand Dom. Peg leg didn't bother you, No leg didn't bother you. Didn't care. Wasn't significant. You got upset with me For wearing a bini. When i took it off u were relieved And told me politely, Get back with the damn group man. As you were want to do, You bit me on the thigh one time. I was running down the beach, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have strayed. At Cornell Club, you fought our raccoon. We'll call it a draw. You had to look out for number one You found the shade Under the truck In the desert. And told Dauter, Who come to poach it, Fuck You Dauter, This is my shade. That's right. Go find the shade boy.