"No Wonder He's Still Lost"

Life in this Mex-Tex neighborhood.

2 nights ago....on the way home from work.

Chepo and I are sitting in our Cummings Turbo Diesel at a traffic light near 75th and Lawndale, an area of cell phone stores, pawn shops, taco stands, tire shops, garage apartments and single story homes.





We each are looking outward and reading the signs of spring.
Posted on a nearby telephone pole, is a plea for help:
"Find My Dog!"
From the photo on the flyer,it looks like some sort of  pit bull type with lots of bling on his collar.


 Craning my neck across Chepo, I try to read the dog's name.
"Char-i-as-ma?  Is that spanish for something, Chepo?"
"Don't ask me....."
"Charisma, maybe?  But misspelled?  But that couldn't be, could it?"  "Would You name That dog "Charisma"?

Silence for a couple of seconds while we gaze at the poster, the dog's photo and wait for the light to change.

And then, as we're pulling off and onward, Chepo barks out:
"No wonder he's still lost; when they go out looking for him, no one knows what to call him!"

Aw yes, the guy who brought me "We're skillet people" strikes again.      Chepo & Skillet People