Chan is Homesick


I carried the small puppy inside my coat. She was surprisingly quiet on the car ride. I wanted to take her with us, and so did mom.

But airport security had something against Chihuahuas, so we hid the dog.

When we got to the airport, we met Mom’s friend, and my future girlfriend. She had rather short blond hair, and dark skin, which made me believe she was Hispanic also.

She was wearing a nice outfit, complete with skinny jeans, and tank top, and flip flops. I felt like such a loser wearing blue jeans, just a t-shirt, and a vest to hide Chan.

“Hola!” she said to me. “Oh, oh, lo siento. Hi! Not used to English.”

“It’s fine. I speck Spanish.” than we started a long conversation in Spanish, but since people these days are no scholars, I’ll translate.

“So what’s your name?” I asked.

“Carmen Lopez. And yours?”

“Felipe Guterez. You pretty excited?”

“You know I am. What’s with the vest?”

I looked around, and saw no one. I opened my vest, and showed her Chan.

“Oh my gosh! She’s so adorable! It is a she, right?”

“Yeah. Her name is Chan.” I looked at Chan, and saw she had been licking the interior of the vest.

I could’ve sworn that the wet spots spelled out the word ‘Home’.

No. It was just my imagination. But it was so detailed, so realistic.

How could I ignore that? Oh yeah, closing my vest.