The humble beginnings and true life tale of Sparky, hero of the Isla Mujeres Mysteries: Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I’m a hero!

“I’m going rollerblading,” Servant said to Driver. She carried a pair of boots with a row of wheels attached to the bottom, thick gloves, a hard thing like the motor-scooter drivers wear on their heads, and a broom.

“What’s the broom for?” Driver asked.

Good question. Why did she need a broom? I wondered.

“For sweeping the concrete pad at the park,” she replied. “The little kids like to toss pebbles onto the concrete. If my blades hit the stones, I might trip.”

“Okay, have a good time,” he said.

Wagging my tail excitedly, I waited for her to clip my leash to my harness and take me along. I had no clue what rollerblading was, but I wanted to go with her.

“No, Sparky, you have to stay home and look after the house,” she said.

I tucked my tail and slunk into my hiding place under the sofa. When she said those words, I knew I must stay home with the cats.

Servant bent over and looked under the sofa. “Don’t worry, Sparky, we’ll go for a golf cart ride later.”

I gave her my sad-eyed-don’t-leave-me look, but she just smiled at me and closed the door.

A short time later, I heard a horrible shrieking noise coming from somewhere down the street. Oh no! I think Servant is hurt. I raced around the living room, looking for an exit. All the doors were tightly closed. I jumped onto the kitchen table and slammed my broad shoulders through a partially open window. It hurt! A lot! But I had to save my friend, Servant.

“Sparky! Stop!” Driver shouted at me.

I didn’t stop. I dashed outside and listened. There. More screams. Oh no, I hope I can save her. I ran south towards the little park where I sometimes chase crabs and swim in the ocean.

I ran and ran, over the sharp rocks. Over the large boulders. Over the sand, and through the prickly bushes. Suddenly, the screaming stopped.

Panting and frightened, I raced into the park searching frantically for my human.

Then I heard Servant’s laughter coming from the street.

“She’s so cute. But my goodness, she’s noisy,” Servant said. She was standing beside a man and his daughter. They were all looking down at an ugly pink dog.

It was pale pink, hairless, and made snorting sounds like those dogs with smushed faces. It had two toes on each foot that looked dangerously sharp. The man bent over and lifted the weird dog into his arms, and it started to scream again. “She doesn’t like to be picked up. But she’s still too little to jump into the car on her own.”

Servant noticed me. “Sparky, what are you doing here?” She patted her thigh to call me to her, but I stayed back. My feet were planted. My sharp fangs were ready to use. I was prepared to spring into action if that pink dog attacked Servant.

“Oh, good, he’s here,” said Driver as he parked the golf cart beside us. “When the screaming started, Sparky jumped on the table and barged his way through the window. The one that we leave locked open, just wide enough for the cats to come and go. It was a very tight fit for Sparky!”

The man stuffed his weird little dog inside his car, and the shrieks stopped. “I’m sorry about the awful noise,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It’s no problem,” Servant said, then bent down and called me to her. “Sparky baby, did you bruise your shoulders when you forced your way out of the window?”

“Guau-guau, jau-jau,” I answered. I was sore, but very relieved that she was okay.

“You are my hero! You saved me from the piglet,” she replied with a wide grin.

Her hero! I felt proud. That piglet must be a very dangerous animal. It certainly sounded dangerous.

Driver and Servant waved goodbye to the man, and we headed back home in our golf cart. A little later, we had lunch at Ballyhoo Restaurante in Centro, to celebrate.

Servant said we were celebrating me being her hero!

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