Tlacochahuaya has heaps of stray dogs.  I mentioned the dog named Chester or Miguel or Chester Miguel that frequents English class.  This skinny momma dog sat at my feet as I was waiting for the unreliable bus to come.

She knew that I had something in my bag to share.  I gave her my last peanut granola bar, and then I told her I had nothing left.  Nothing, I repeated to her hungry eyes.

Then, I dug out the gummy fruit. She liked the sound if the wrapper, but she hated the strawberry one.  So I tossed her orange.  Not so bad, and so she tried the strawberry again, and it disappeared.  She polished off the small pack and waited with me for the bus.

I should have known it was a bad sign when the bus took fifteen minutes to pass the bus stop and circle back to me.  I should have heeded the warnings when I saw all three of the bus attendants get off the bus, pull out a piece of cardboard, and try to look under the bus.

I heard the engine start back up, and I hopped on as it passed.  None of us said anything about the cardboard.

We arrived at the gas station on the highway, ten minutes into the journey, and the driver said.  It’s broken.  Get off.  I asked: Huh.  He repeated the terse message.

There I was, twenty minutes or more outside of Oaxaca on the side of a busy highway with no official bus stop in sight.

I was determined not to cram into a colectivo cab.  I would wait for a bus.

Then, the enVia van saw me!  They were coming back from giving loans in the town, and I, well I was unmistakable, a stray on the highway.  They let me in and brought me almost all of the way home,

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