The Angel of Death
Driving around la Guajira made me meet several situations… First I saw a goat bound on a motorbike in the hot midday sun crying for help. The owner of the bike just left it there while being on the market or having lunch, who knows… It was heartbreaking.
On the way back I saw a whole pickup truck full of goats bound the same way (legs together), lying on the roof too… crying too.
Animals have a voice, people are only deaf for it. Is it the language we don’t want to understand?
Then at some point the driver of the colectivo crossed himself seeing a dog on the street. He drove too fast to do anything than honking. The dog, only skin and bone, realized too late and started to “run” (rather walk, he was too week) and did not make it. The driver had a look in the rearview mirror and crossed himself again. Deathly silence in the car. The Angel of death was here.

