Mantesso - A Dog Named Jimmy

I woke up early on January 14. Its impossible to sleep late in the humid heat that permeates the city of Belo Horizonte, Brazil, in January. I opened my eyes and looked up at the white ceiling. I slid the top of my left foot down the soft sheet that covered the double bed, exploring the newly recovered territory. Glancing at the floor, I saw Jimmy Choo, with his head resting on the soft gray blanket and the rest of his body splayed on the cool floor, and smiled. I got up and went to brush my teeth, Jimmy Choos eyes following my every step.

In the bathroom I began to realize the extent of the tsunami that had passed through my house. My ex-wife had left the day before. Take whatever you like, Id told her. Jimmy Choo stays. As I brushed my teeth, I wandered the house, opening cabinets and doors at random. The small cabinet above the sink was practically emptyno sign of the dozens of little containers of lotions and fragrances that signal the presence of a woman in a house. In the closet my few articles of clothing swayed softly in the otherwise empty space. I paced through the living room, veranda, kitchen, bedrooms. Chairs, tables, sofas, ottomans, lamps, cabinets, glasses of all shades and sizes, place settings, pans were all gone. There was not even a wastebasket left to dispose of the plastic packaging from the toilet paper, which was also running out. She had taken everything.

It was my thirtieth birthday. The few friends who I had knew that I hated to celebrate my birthday. I would have the day to myself. Unexpectedly, I began to feel a strong sense of euphoria. I wasnt sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

On the floor, beside the bed, Jimmy Choo launched an amorous attack on his fluffy blanket. He clenched it in his teeth and growled softly. He was hungry. Dog food in the bowl and leftover yogurt in a cupthis was breakfast for us. I put on some comfortable clothes and fastened the leash onto Jimmys collar, and we descended for his morning walk. The warmth of the sun did both of us good. The forty-minute walk became two hours. We returned home with a new wastebasket.

While I was unwrapping the wastebasket, Jimmy Choo seemed to realize that the house was empty and it was now just us. Unlike me, he knew exactly what he felt: tremendous joy. He scurried through all the rooms at top speed, intent on occupying the full territory. Every so often hed return to me, bump into me and then be off again. Bull terriers are the breed of dog that most intensely express their love for their owners, and they spare no effort to show this adoration.

Jimmys joy was contagious. Laughing, I grabbed my cell phone and began to snap pictures of him in his glee. Jimmys white body went well with the white of the floor, the white walls and the white ceiling of the apartment. We began to play, and I kept taking pictures: my feet between Jimmys paws, Jimmy and his blanket, Jimmy wearing my suede boots. After we exhausted ourselves, Jimmy sat down next to the empty white box that had held our brand-new wastebasket, but from my perspective it looked like hed actually gotten in the box. And suddenly I felt the urge to do something that I hadnt for twelve years: draw.

With a broad-tip marker, I drew a stylized skeleton of Jimmy on the white box. Then, with a red marker, I drew a heart inside the bones. It was a simple drawing of what you might see in an X-ray of Jimmy. Jimmy sat patiently as I finished the drawing and took another picture. I liked the result. I cropped the image and posted it on Instagram, my first photo of Jimmy in a drawing. The success was instantaneous. Lots of likes.