When we returned from Tucson, we didn't see Rojo for a day or so which was very unusual and then one evening he appeared. I took his food down to him and he looked a little rough around the edges. He was limping and holding one leg up in the air and his head was banged up over one eye. The leg did not appear to be broken though, more bruised, as when he felt like it he would stand on it. He seemed happy to see me though and didn't seem to be in pain. As I was feeding him the landlords daughter in law was chatting with another neighbor lady and they informed me that he was going to die. Apparently while we were gone one of the landlords sons had accidently hit him with his work truck and they expected him not to make it. As he is a street dog it didn't occur to anyone to take him to the vet, it is survival of the fittest with these animals. I took a good look at him and he seemed to be healing fine and to be in no pain, so wasn't sure why they thought he was going to die. At this point he didn't seem to need the services of a vet. I couldn't understand a certain word they were saying and couldn't find it in my dictionary and of course this was the "key" word. As the days passed he continued to heal and is now his old self, with just one more battle scar. He used to sleep right in the middle of the street and just look up when a car came and expect them to go around him, which they did. He may have learned his lesson though as he seems to sleep a little further off to the side of the street now. A hard lesson learned.
