Reyna

The weather-beaten, tired, and downtrodden older gentleman pleaded with a forlorn hope in his voice, "Please take her for free. I can tell you are a good person." I wanted to argue that point because I didn't necessarily agree with it. Essentially, I was in Mexico to buy drugs, not adopt a pet. Even though I didn't know it at the time, I was attached to a higher meaning. Something deep inside of me was gnawing at my conscience, my heart-strings. So I once again refused the "free" offer of the puppy, who was peering up at me with two big and sad eyes, one damaged. And when he set her down on that bridge, which was rife with smells of human and industrial contaminants, she wandered up to me on unsteady, undernourished legs and responded to my voice with a discerning tilt of her head. As I was saying, "I wish I could take you home, but I do not have the right to do so." A back and forth started between the older Mexican man and me. Like a wedding guest caught up in a tale of an ancient mariner, I could not choose but to hear the imminent tale.

An unexpected encounter of a Tijuana bridge with a random stranger shifts the author's perspective, transforming a past marred by questionable decisions into a pivotal moment of change for the future. A selfish, dogged quest for a prescription painkiller quickly evolves into a life-or-death decision redirecting him into a world of sacrifice, selflessness, and unconditional love - thanks to a Tijuana local and his sicked, damaged dog. A tainted mind over a polluted river becomes purified by a twist of fate and a necessary intervention, in a watershed moment, saving two lives in the process, and positively impacting many others.