Dogs

There is an estimated 1.85 dogs for every man, woman, child and en vitro entity in Yelapa. I deliberately avoided the verb “own” since at any given point, or for a string of successive points over time; it is difficult to tell who actually cares for, tends to or dare I say “owns” a particular dog. No leash law exists so what leashes are employed typically belong to visitors. Some people are seen to carry a leash, but I never quite understood what that accomplished either for the person or their animal. 

I own a dog, Nikki, an English Shepherd. We depart Casa Azul twice daily to attend to her needs. She is leashed prior to departing. The tether is removed once we re-enter the front door. The family below me “owns” three medium-sized dogs. There were four, but alas the old Chihuahua passed on. The remaining three, like all their Yelapan cousins, roam free throughout their territory. Each of them is capable of emitting a loud if not threatening chorus of barking at passing mules, motos (quads), scooters and pedestrians. I have initiated a one-man campaign to voice my disenchantment. In all honesty, it must be stated that several of the household members below me now make token attempts to quiet these three. 

I am not a vengeful person, but last night vengeance was mine. The youngest of the three canines, which also exhibits the loudest bark and behaves in the most aggressive manner, was sprayed by a skunk. Now Mexican skunks spray a similarly acrid scent but it is ever so slightly different; perhaps occasioned by a diet of papaya leaves and poblano chile. Once the incident occurred, the dog shared its discomfort by rocketing through the open front door of the adjacent dwelling. At that instant, all hell broke loose. The dog was ultimately corralled, restrained and attached to a tree where it proceeded to vocalize its predicament. 

The resident family spent the ensuing three hours on the street in front of their home, bidding “buenas noches” as polite travelers extracted their noises from protective hoodies when they passed.

Fortunately, the prevailing breeze was such that Casa Azul was upwind. By ll:30 pm, I could stand no more. I dozed off to the muted shuffle of foot traffic followed by much fatigued voices echoing “buenas noches.” 

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.