This is Sugus.
Beach Stud
Sugus has an “owner” – Linda, one of the “Bosses of the Chairs” (beach chair renters) at the beach. Linda clearly loves Sugus.
Every morning Sugus and Linda hop on her motorbike and travel the two or so kilometers to the beach together. One is rarely without the other.
Commuting to Work
When Sugus gets to the beach, he’s on his own. He dumpster dives:
Lunch Time!
He chases the bitches. Then has a nap.
<I can’t believe I don’t have a photo of this dog taking a nap!>
He barks at whomever he wants to, just because he can. Small children and old women with big plastic bags beware – no one is spared.
Those of us who know Sugus make up stories about him to pass the time:
- he sleeps all day because he’s been up entertaining the ladies at Sky Garden the night before;
- we try to pick out the beach dog who is his “daddy.”
While I can’t say I participate in or condone this one, some of the beach boys pick on him a bit, giving him a little scare every once in a while. You know – a “pop” from a plastic bottle top forcibly expelled in his direction. He usually just jumps up, yawns, and re-locates his nap.
Urban legend has it that one night Sugus even killed a cat. At only about 20 lbs., I’m not so sure he could (or actually WOULD) do that. But it makes for a good Sugus story.
Sugus accompanied another tourist to a party at my apartment, which is about 2 km from where he lives. He just left Linda on the beach and hopped on this friend’s motorbike for the ride here.
He spent some time chasing my landlord’s dogs around the yard while we had our party.
At one point I asked, “Where’s Sugus?”
Someone replied, “He went home.”
“How?” I asked.
“He just went. Walked home.”
“He knows the way?”
“Of course, he lives here!”
I guess he’d had enough of the party and did what any self-respecting, bored dog would do – he left.
So yesterday when my friend and I wandered into the street outside the beach wall where people who work there gather at the end of the day, assembling their goods and families for their trips home, I was dismayed to see Sugus DISTRESSED. He was pacing amongst the snarl of motorbikes where Linda normally parks, looking around for her.
At one point he jumped on the motorbike of one of the beach boys he sees daily. I asked, “Do you know where he lives?”
“No,” Alan replied, looking concerned but not really knowing what to do. Sugus wouldn’t budge until I started petting his neck and ears and coaxed him back to the curb.
“What should we do? Is Linda gone?” I asked my friend who was giving me a ride home.
“We can take him home.”
“Do you know where Linda lives?” I asked.
“Yeah” he said, “we can take him there.”
With little coaxing, Sugus mounted my friend’s scooter on the flat spot in front of his feet. He’s an expert rider and didn’t flinch, even when we had to make some hard, sudden stops or hit the speed bumps. I swear he was sleeping standing up.
When we arrived at this home, my friend had to wake him up to get him off the bike and headed towards his house. He looked a little dazed and confused when I looked back at him, but I’m sure he got inside.
Sugus was back on the beach today, up to his usual antics. It’s his home, and he was expected.
