Shipwrecks in the Park

The weather gods have been smiling on us here in Kansas City. Today was filled with brilliant sunshine and temperatures in the 60's. Tomorrow is supposed to be almost 70. Puggles and I took advantage of the warm weather and walked the path at our favorite Mill Creek Park. A metal bench sits at the north apex of the trail. Today esconced on the bench were a man and a woman, most likely homeless (or as they are poetically called in Nicaragua, Naufragas or Shipwrecked)and quite scruffy. He was thin and gaunt, wispy grey hair peaking out of a dingy ball cap. She was heavier, too heavy for her height, and equally scruffy. Each of the shipwrecked clutched their cherished possession, a carefully wrapped can of cheap beer. They looked as if they were relishing the cold liquor, probably feeding their alcoholic beast.

They watched us as we rounded the bend. Puggles was busy stopping to check out the latest news at each lamp post, but I kept a wary eye out for them. Likely I would get asked for money so they could ply their sad lives with more beer to drown the pain.

"What kind of dog is that?", the Lady Naufraga managed to slur out. Before I could answer, her conpadre answered "Dumb shit, it is a Pug, you know the one that can talk... in the movie". "Oh yeah.." nodding in agreement and swigging her beer. A short silence from all of us as Puggles checked out the legs of the bench. "That fucking dog can't talk... it just snorts, so not all of the damn things can talk".
"Bitch!" he squawled, "it was in a movie, it was not real."

We beat a hasty retreat. I think she was going to kill him.