"Is there a dog on the roof"?

I owe this to a friend that made a comment on my blog “Fluffo did it”.

When we lived in Mexico, it was common to see small houses on the roofs of buildings. The housekeepers lived there. We naturally had one on our house. Magdalena and her daughter, who was a student nurse, lived there.

We had dogs then that were abandoned street dogs: one of our favorites, was Lupe Velez, we found her in a Mexican park, great dog.

We were used to having dogs around. In a moment of authority, I said no more dogs, enough is enough, and nobody picks up another dog, that’s it.

I figured that was it, I had spoken. My family, including Magdalena, assumed it was a suggestion, a maybe, a perhaps.

There was a vacant lot on our street. This was a great source of abandoned dogs. The whole group, wife, kids, maid, her daughter maybe even the mailman, decided one more would not matter. They had to decide when would be the right time to tell me. In the meantime the dog, Chiquita, lived on the roof and was part of the collusion. Not a bark, not a sound, this goes on for a month or so.

I drive into the parking space in the front Garden and for some reason look up and see this little face looking down at me from the roof. Everybody plays dumb and looks around for things to do, lots of shuffling and looking away. I still was not sure what I had seen and asked, “Is there a dog on the roof”?

Chiquita decides it is OK to bark now, I have seen her, no reason to hide and be quiet. One month of pent up barking comes out now, all at once it seemed. She continues to live on the roof, at least while I am around, and to be relatively quiet.

While watching TV one evening, on the second floor of our house, I glance out the window and see a small body hurtling down. Chiquita got excited at something in the garden, and fell, or jumped off the roof.
None of us can believe what we have seen, or had we seen this little dog hurtling past like a little super hero.
Everybody to the garden, she has to be dead or at least badly hurt, nope, nothing, nada. She crashed through the bougainvillea arbor onto a bed of Margaritas, just missing the cactus.
Maybe she is a cat and has 8 more lives to go.

Dogs on roofs are usually very lucky, no traffic to worry about, and a family that will go to extremes to keep them sort of safe, except when there’s something of interest down below.