Channel the Yoda

Monday, March 15, 2010

The Song of the Feral Dogs

A howl in the night, followed by another and another until the only sound heard is the song of the feral dogs that roam the cobbled streets of Valparaiso, Chile.

They are beggars, sun bathers, friendly pals, snarly biters, flea mongers, people watchers, and trash diggers. But most of all, they are homeless, wandering bodies who fill their days chasing cars or bikes or well, ME! They really love to torture runners, especially the skittish.

Everyday walking down the HOP (Hill of Pain) I would see the same puppies; a little Weiner mix click-click-clicking his long nails behind me like an annoying stalker, a blue haired mutt snoring under a junked car and a crazy eyed poodle staring me down like a piece of meat.

Many were once house pets or their parents were, but poverty forced these animals into the streets.

Feral dogs are not just rampant in Valparaiso but all of Chile. While traveling the South of Chile we met the sweetest and proudest German Sheppard ever! He trotted in front of us, peeing on everything he could find to mark his territory before we passed it. It was literally a pissing parade.

I was surprised he didn't try to pee on us, not that we would've probably noticed. It had been awhile with the shower and laundry by then.

A couple of days later, still in the South, we were at a bus stop. I saw a dog lying there, still as the night. I looked for breathing--I had learned to look for breathing--I NEEDED TO LOOK FOR BREATHING...but there was none.

I peered at his long, puppy face and gasped, stepping back suddenly. He wasn't my first "deceased friend" but it was my first ugly ending...there was no needle or sleepy time or even a quick and painless crack; he just slowly starved to death.

My travel companions chose not to look for breathing...it was easier just to believe that the puppies we encountered were just "sleeping." I don't know why I had to look but I did every time.

Later when we returned to Valparaiso I would lie in my bed at night and listen to howls of the lost dogs. One puppy would howl the same melodic tune every night. I wondered who he was singing too… maybe me.

By the end of my time in Chile I had seen many "deceased friends" on the streets, sidewalks, ditches and shady areas. I was proud that I still gasped every time I discovered there was no breathing; that I hadn't accepted their death as just another day in the life of Chile.

And neither have Chileans accepted this fact either. So many times I would see puppies on their last leg, lying there outside a market, with doggy kibble or water dishes laid next to them.

And now, as I sit in a quiet room late at night, I still feel their song... and I wonder if that sad, melodic tune is still howled strong in the night or if it is another that has slowly faded away.

4 comments:

  1. I read in a Santiago newspaper that there are over 2,000,000 stray dogs in Chile. That's a lot of zeros. I remember commenting on their similarity. Perhaps they all had the same father!

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  2. Lol!! In Fruitillar I noticed that all the dogs had a huge body and a tiny head!

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  3. Again Nerissa.....VERY well written! Although a very heartbreaking story, I found it interesting as I was not aware :-(

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  4. Wow, I'm really don't think I could handle that many dogs! The live or dead ones. Are they really as pervasive as you make them seem? Sounds intense. (Well written though!)

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