I've loved Llosa for as long as I can remember. Two people I love more, however, are this bizarre mother-daughter jodi who go by the 'tags' Hazel and Dio (rock enthusiasts will be pleased to know that Dio is, indeed, named after Ronnie James Dio, before we realised that DioN might have been more appropriate {although infinitely less rock 'n' roll} given that SHE was a, well, not to put too fine a point on it, a SHE.)
Someone threw Dio away. They put her into a plastic bag when she was barely a couple of days old, and threw her into a waste-bin. The person cleaning it out found her, bawling, I'll wager, and called Dhun and Hazel, knowing that if anyone in this city so sickeningly apathetic could help, it was these guys. And that person was right. They took Dio in. They nursed her to health - slowly, painstakingly - waking up on the hour, every hour, to feed her when she couldn't feed herself. It was hard work, but Dio turned Hazel into a veritable mother-figure. THE mother-figure.
Complications abounded. Dio cannot really see or hear - she has only about 10% vision and hearing - but she's a little fighter. She's hung in there, and many many scratches, bruises and bites later, so has my Hazel!
This, therefore, is a little tribute; my little tribute, in praise of this step-mother. Would that all mothers were as devoted, unflinchingly caring and full of gumption as you :)
PS. Did I mention that Dio was a cat? Would this story have bothered you less if you'd known that from the start? Shocking. Like I said, we live in apathetic times.
