So I take Mango, the big golden dog, to the vet because she has some persistent ear crud going on. El doctór, who is lovely and kind, the same guy who took the disgusting worm things out of Boo, scrapes a little sample off Mango’s ear, scrapes it onto a slide and examines it for quite some time under two different microscopes. Looking, turning knobs. Spraying some stuff on it. Turning the slide, looking some more.
Finally, he turns to me and, very somberly, says, "Jeest."
"What?" I ask, a little panicked.
"Jeest," he says. "JEEEEST."
I ponder this for a moment. What is jeest, I think to myself. That sounds pretty serious, but… familiar somehow. "What is jeest?" I ask him.
"Jeest! Jeest!" He’s practically shouting now in his enthusiasm for me to understand. "Jew know, JEEEEESSSSTTTT."
I’m terribly slow and confused by this time. Jew should have given it away, but, no, I don’t get it. "Is that Hey-E-Essay-Tay [G-I-S-T]?" The H in Hey pronounced like the H in Chutzpah. Which would be the phonetically-correct Spanish spelling of Jeest. If there were such a word. I was thinking if I could spell it, see the word in my head, maybe I’d have a clue.
"NO! YGRIEGA-A-AH-ESSAY-TAY!" He is shouting now.
"Oh," I say. "Yeast."
"What?" he asks.
"Yeeeest." I say. "Yuh, yuh, yeeest."
"Jeeest," he says, trying to make the sound. "Juh, juh, jeeest."
He cannot say yeast. He tries, he tries very hard. But it will only come out jeest. We have a good giggle over this. It takes so little to amuse us over here in the land of gallo pinto. Er, GAH-joe PEEN-toe.
Mango is fine, by the way. Jeest all cleared up.