Puppy meet Puppy
What does a dog see when he looks into a mirror? Once in a while Yoda walks past a reflecting glass panel at home, sees something and begins to bark quite loudly. We draw the curtain over the glass, but he finds a way to move it aside. Is he saying hello to himself, is it reaction to a doppelganger, or is he just telling us that he does not like his bow, or the length of his hair? Who can ever fathom what goes on in a dog’s mind?
We were in Bilbao, on a long planned mission to see the Gehry Guggenheim. As you land at the airport, the terminal swoops up from the ground, almost like a Concorde taking off. It was a very auspicious start to our trip. Salud Calatrava!
Yoda was in Seventh Heaven. He was cooed over in Spanish, both Catalan and Basque, and sat on the luggage cart as it was wheeled up to our room. He jumped on the bed, bounced around on it, and then sat mesmerized in front of the giant Plasma TV. He had never seen color so good, and neither had we.
Yoda discovered foie in Bilbao. We were delighted that virtually every restaurant, and every menu featured versions of foie – seared, terrine, en croute – and we had them all. Mina scooped up a little bit on her finger and Yoda scarfed it down. We had to fight off his demand for seconds.
Michael Caine described the traditional British breakfast of eggs, ham, bacon and sausages as a heart attack on a plate. I know what he would have said about our two course foie meals. If there was a foie ice cream, we would have had that too.
I had seen pictures of the museum, and a few of them showed a giant green, pink , yellow, blue and many other colored sculpture of a dog, placed right in front of it. ‘ Puppy’ by Jeff Koons. He had installed it before the Goog came up, and it was supposed to have been brought down once the museum was inaugurated. But the good people of Bilbao had grown fond of it, and so it was allowed to stay.
We took Yoda to see Puppy. It’s a living sculpture, and the entire metal frame is covered with small flowers of all colors, fed by a network of water pipettes. There was a gentle wall of water flowing down all the time, and only the presence of heavily armed guards prevented us from touching it. Who wants to die in Bilbao?
We got the obligatory pictures first, Mina holding Yoda, Puppy looming over them at the back. And then, we let Yoda down. Puppy met Puppy, and no one blinked. Yoda walked around, I think he could not compute the scale, and obviously the complete absence of aroma meant that this was not a dog. Only in our fevered imagination, was Puppy a Puppy.
We walked back home along the river, and here Yoda struck pay dirt. Every dog in Bilbao seemed out for a walk, most of them off the leash, and ready to play. Yoda went up to a small terrier, who got very territorial, and drove Yoda off with very vigorous barking. He followed us for quite a while, ignored his human who was yelling at him, and made sure that we were firmly off his stomping ground. I think he would have chased us all the way to the airport to ensure that we were truly gone.
Yoda learned an important lesson in Bilbao. A prophet is often without honor in his own country. A dog may find love and affection in the company of other dogs, but he is most sure of the red carpet when he plays with humans.
Lesson learned, we all trudged back to the hotel, where Yoda was greeted with ‘Ola, Perrito’ and had his stomach tickled in the lobby. God was in his heaven, and all was well on earth.
Feb 01, 2009 | | Book