December 14, 2007

Have just received the following from vet friend Yvonne Provci, who practices in Detroit, Michigan.

"The females probably have retained ovarian remnants, meaning they are producing estrogen and progesterone so they act like they are in heat, but they had their uterus removed, so they cannot get pregnant. Male castrated dogs sometimes still have an interest in trying to breed... but they can't get anything pregnant...shooting blanks."

I'd figured it was something like this, but all pretty crazy!!

December 13, 2007

Things have quickly gotten very weird, very fast. There's been three fights in two days. All because the two small black females are in heat. The thing is, they're spayed. I've never encountered this before, and feel out of my element. I've seen three males jump on them, two of which are castrated. One is Bruiser. I've found this particularly unsettling. I'm not sure I'm upset of the idea of him wanting to have sex (he didn't quite get that far) or who he wanted to do it with, which is a dog I don't care for to much. Go ahead, laugh. The fights, of course are never a fun thing. Animals fighting is raw, violent and vicious. I broke too up, or at least dissipated the tension by holding on to tails, which is risky for me, but usually works. Then there's the lingering tension in the air. Of course, all the dogs by now are subdued, and I'm wiped. I take it in emotionally and hold it in, whereas once their emotions are vented, they move onto the next issue. They're much more evolved than I...

The fights have all been with animals outside our immediate pack, who were either tagging along, attracted to the females, or neighbor dogs. There's no injuries. For now, I'll keep the females confined when I take the others walking. I can't handle any more tension like today. It reminds me very much of times in Kenya, when I was also walking numerous dogs, not all mine, and sometimes out in the bush with wild animals, to add an extra unknown element. Many times I'd come back cut and bruised, or just plain exhausted.

There is good news. I saw one of the fisherman at Blanco's house this morning and he said Blanco was happy in the new place, and when was I going to come visit. Well, when I did a few hours later, Blanco had been moved to the back. My thoughts of wondering whether he'd be too isolated in front were valid. The thing is, it was the actual family that decided for his welfare. Yet another instance of me presuming that because he's tied, he's not cared about. Not true. Anyway, with their ok, I rigged up the sliding rope in the new place where he is, and it's all so much better. Alas, I saw through the fence to the neighbor and saw two dogs in cages. All the while I did this, and then proceeded to cut more matted hair, little kids were touching Blanco affectionately. This may seem normal to you, and it is to me, but I hear so many traveler's tales of the opposite.

And the Fishing Floozy... she asked many times whether the dog needed another injection for worms, anything for fleas and ticks, and whether the sores on his skin are from mange. (it's not, the dog has long hair, it gets matted and then the hair pulls and brings the hair and skin with it.) She could be asking all this because her husband comes back for Xmas. But, she also asked how much money I needed for my services. Of course, gratis, free. You just can never tell with people... she's a complete turnaround from my initial experience with her.

December 12, 2007

Anyone remember Blanco? He was a dog covered in oil when his owner brought him to me. The man was devoted to him, but was leaving the next day to work in Lima for two months. I wasn't too concerned about the oil, but the fact he was tied by a three foot rope that tangled and shortened to two feet did. Other people find dogs loose and homeless to be worrisome. My feelings are that at least the animal is free to forage and have a life. A chained or caged animal has little hope in improving it's life. The problem affects dogs in all countries.

The problem is whenever I've spoken with owners about this, there's usually a good reason (they think) for its confinement, and it usually has to do with running in the street where there's cars. They claim Blanco chases cars. They have two other dogs which are loose all the time, and look very healthy, as well as several cats.

I returned with something for fleas and tics which the husband had wanted, but had problems with the man's wife. She completely denied that the dog had been covered in oil, or that I'd shampooed it. She seemed a bit of a floozy, and when near the dog, exclaimed in fear. I've noticed this is sometimes affected by girls when they reach their teens. It's part of the, "Eek, it's a mouse," syndrome. It drives me crazy.

The second time I went to see her was to tell her Noe was at my house and had deworming medicine. I'd rigged up a line next to my van to demonstrate how Blanco could be tied to give him more freedom. I let Noe, who'd never seen anything like this before, handle the demonstration. She agreed to try it. I bought some nylon line and found a washer that would slide easily back and forth. And then did nothing. For two weeks. I somehow could not get into the mood to face the fishing floozy. Today, I had to go.

Fishing Floozy greeted me with a welcoming smile. That took me aback. Where the dog is normally tied isn't appropriate for any kind of roping as there's three trees he can get wrapped around. I suggested out front, "Security for you," I said. My ulterior motive, was that because their house is on the main thoroughfare, others might notice this different approach.

Again, the FF seemed receptive. Her only concern was, "There's no shade." Well, I was shocked again. She exhibited concern for the animal, when before there was only fear. In fact, I'd cased out this entire situation beforehand, and knew that one area did get shade. So, I got to work, while about 8 kids stood around and watched and giggled. I laughed in response, and whenever an adult was around, I made it clear that this was an experiment, maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn't. I don't want to come across as some Gringa intruding on their lives.

After some alterations, the dog has a view of the street, and ten feet of freedom back and forth. The problems could be Blanco might not feel part of the family, if everyone's in the back area where they bring the fish in and actually live. I fear they might forget to give him water, though in the three times I've been to the house, there's never been water in his bowl. I said I'd drop by tomorrow to see how it is.

Do I feel better? Not really. I can't emphasize how much I hate to see an animal tied. I've seen some (again, not just in Latin countries, in the US too) on such short leads the animal can't lie down. However, I don't know what else to do, when people have legitimate reasons for tying their animals. If anyone knows of better solutions, I'd love to hear them!

More weird stuff happening. This morning it was 11 dogs for our walk. The new one lives down the street and has the hots for one of the spayed females. The dynamics of our pack was completely set off balance. There were growls from the males and a weird feel. I immediately took them out to the desert, because even before he showed up, everything was really hyped.

Then down on the beach, Bobbie went for him. I rammed the bicycle wheel between them, but to no avail and Bruiser and Lucy quickly joined in, both big dogs. I pulled Bobbie back by the tail (This can backfire as the dog's natural tendency is to swing around and bite whatever is holding it. It works better if the dog knows you well.). With the aggressor out of the way, the tension dissipated and the dog ran away with another neighbor dog. I made this mistake once in Kenya. If there's tension already there, being on neutral turf doesn't mean it will be calm.

Then after our afternoon walk, More's dog (Who I can't stand. He barks, jumps up at me etc.) was in the run when we returned. Within 15 minutes, he was humping another spayed female. I looked closer, and he was actually inside her, and then of course after it was all over, was stuck there for five minutes before deflating. Wow! Both these two females are fixed! What's going on???? And the first one is attracting many males, and Dog, also a spayed female has been acting differently with her. Would anyone like to enlighten me on this????

The animal world is WILD. I LOVE being part of this. What an experience. But it's so close to danger. I have to be very careful with this many dogs and make sure we're out when others are not. I could go back to walking them in two groups, but not nearly as fun...

December 11, 2007

Perhaps sleeping so well is dangerous for me. I've had no negative dog instances while being here...till today. I opened up the front door to let all the dogs out, and a man I've seen before is riding by on a bicycle. The dogs after being confined are all over, and barking and Bobbie runs over to the man nips him (too strong a word) on the ankle. He's angry. Pulls up his pant leg, and his sock down. There's nothing there. Or rather, after I run my finger over it, there's nothing. Not even a graze.

Nevertheless, I make effusive apologies, express my shock, and bend down and mock kiss his ankle. Ok, I'm bad. Then he launches into this tirade of being bitten up in the pueblo on the hill, either these dogs, or others. Can't be these as they're confined except when I'm out with them. If it's other dogs, then truly this is not my problem. All the while the dogs are hysterical because they want to go on their walk, not chat, so the barkers are barking and the man has this look of indignation on his face. Do I do that when I go into a store and kids are screaming, which is often? No. We both go our separate ways, him pissed off, me initially full of myself, and then feeling bad for being so sarcastic.

It must've stayed with me, because when I went to get bread (fresh rolls, every morning, 5 cents each...) and pay a bill from yesterday for mangos and ginger, I have to wait. I've got four dogs with me, two inside, two out. There's already four dogs milling around owned by the store. A woman goes to leave and one of mine is outside at the door. She acts horrified, wants to know how she's going to get out. I say the dog won't bite. She stands there. I grab hold of her and pull her through the door. The other three women burst out laughing.

I won't get any points in heaven for either of these situations, but I'm so tired of people acting squeamish about dogs in isolated incidences, when you have to understand, there's dogs EVERYWHERE! It's not like in the Europe and the States where they're all inside. You walk down the street, at some point, a dog or two will bark at you. People are brought up with this. This woman had to bypass four dogs NOT mine to get in the store, which she probably goes to everyday! And now suddenly she's scared because it's my dog?

AND, (I'm really in a rage today...) I hear over and over from travellers who say they see all this cruelty from children towards dogs. I'm not seeing it. Yes, occasionally I'll see a child bop a dog on the head with whatever he's holding, but I don't see this as cruel, it's a learning curve. You do it too hard, a dog's going to snarl, a cat will scratch. But waaaay more often than not, I'm seeing them as companions for each other. I'm not seeing animals swung around by their tails as I saw in my own American raised childhood.
Ok, I'm done.

Not sure what's going on. It seems I'm having a 'Peru' day. Took the dogs (four) down to the beach after shopping. A couple were there with their dog (who looked like a street dog, not the frou-frou variety. The couple looked like they had property here and visited occasionally. The dogs all went to the dog and they all started sniffing, as dogs do. The man picks up a rock and throws it at Bruiser. I scream.

What followed was a short stupid exchange, me saying he was bad, him saying this is his country and my dogs were molesting his, me saying dogs sniff each other, that's what dogs do. Both of us in a huff, we walked in opposite directions. His dog didn't follow, instead began sniffing Dog. A dog molestor!!! My golden opportunity... So I yelled a few times, but by the time he turned around, they were each sniffing each other.

The whole thing is ridiculous, I ended up in tears because the common denominator in all these instances was though it all sounds funny, I was hostile, as much as they. And, their actions are because they're scared. Whenever I've asked, no one's heard of problems with dog bites. It's just something people all over the world fear. (Hah, and you thought America was the only place with paranoia...?) Nevertheless, it's real to them.

Used www.theWork.com to unravel it all, and now all is well with the world.

December 10, 2007

What a completely great day today, after changing the position of the bed yesterday and getting a GREAT night's sleep. Got some fantastic writing done on an article. Unfortunately, not the one that's due at the end of the week, but it'll put me ahead later... And the man doing welding work on my van got my back doors fixed! This is amazing, as I had it worked on by a mechanic in Paita who'd made it worse. (I also discovered I'd been ripped off by Paita man too. I got a quote for a new pipe for the muffler, and said the materials were going to be 85 soles for three meters. In fact, I checked the price and it's just under 30. AND, I only need two meters.)

This local guy and myself had both pondered how to fix the back doors, which no longer mesh together correctly, and would let in more water now, than before other mechanic 'fixed' it. I sensed he was in a bit of a dilemma about this, as was I. I went back at the end of the day, and the door is done. He said he'd looked at it, and when he was sleeping, the answer came. He said it was given to him by Dios, God. I told him this is exactly how my writing problems are solved.

The afternoon had excitement and fun, but, which actually could have turned disastrous. It was high tide for the afternoon walk. Really high. I've been taking all the dogs for this too, not just the morning walk. As they're such a closer and tighter knit pack these days it's no more trouble than taking my two. And Dog and Bruiser don't seem to mind them as much. As in the case of many indigenous dogs, most of these dogs don't like the water, and two will do anything they can to avoid it. We were having to dash from between the space of each house to avoid getting drenched.

The two dogs who loathe the water, one, actually petrified of it, climbed on the rocky break, and then got stuck. Both turned back, one following us, the other not. At the same time, a wave came pounding down one first one of the little black dogs, and then the other, which I was scared would then either take them back out to sea, or bash them against the rocks. I was already to jump in and save the one which got the worst hit. I doubt I would've bothered taking my camera out of my pocket. Fortunately, they were both ok, but shaken. I decided to head back to the house, there was no way we could go further without further risk.

But Rocky was still missing. I called, and called but no response. I figured he'd returned to the house. He wasn't there. As I said, they're now a tightly cemented group. I returned with three dogs and Rocky had stuck around where we parted. A month ago he wouldn't have. It was exhilarating, but might do some desert walks when the tide is so high.

December 9, 2007

Totally in a funk. Went camping last night so I could get a decent night's sleep. I don't have 4x4 and it's sand. Disconcerting sand, as it's rock hard in places, and soft in others. You can't let your guard down. I get to some sand dunes, and they're not nearly as wonderful as they looked in the distance, and the surface surrounding them gets stuck in your shoes. I foresee the van, which is already a mess since I'm not living in it, becoming trashed between myself and two dogs. I turn back and head up to a cliff area. The surface is large stones. Solid. I park, decide I need to level the van out, and get stuck. I can't believe it. I shovel for ten minutes, try again, get further stuck and now the van's at a crappy angle. The hell with it, I'll dig us out in the morning. And in the morning, it was a breeze getting out. Slept like a log the first five hours, got woken by the vent being blown open by wind and couldn't get back to sleep.

This is when I'd planned to leave. I'd hoped to meet up with fellow travellers for Christmas in the south of Peru. I can't. A magazine hasn't paid on time. I'm feeling sorry for myself. I put a note on a travellers website hoping some people will come here, but I think people are either too far north, or too far south. I know there's people out there reading this who feel trapped in some areas of their lives. It feels no different out here. And all I don't like gets accentuated. There's lousy music playing, the woman next door is screaming and on and on. I can't leave.

I sweep out the room I'm staying, rearrange the furniture and my mattress so the head is facing north. The mug I've been using for over a year just got a chip and crack so I use a tall slender jar which has just been emptied of Peruvian peach jam. I get to work. I return to finishing my book, the current love of my life, and other magazine deadlines, one which will hopefully pay early so I CAN leave here. I write. For sanity. And immediately begin feeling calmer.

Driving. If you think the Middle East is conservative, come to Peru. I can't remember when I saw only woman driver. If I was in a city, I'm sure there'd be plenty. But not here. In Costa Rica there were women motorcyclists in rural areas. Not here. Women don't earn enough to buy gas.

You know you're in a poor country when you hand a storekeeper a 20 soles note, worth less than $7, and repeatedly, no one has that much in change.

Allowing dogs inside homes is also not a new fad. In cultures where the dividing line between outdoors and in is more fluid, many animals, including goats, meander in and out of homes. As in Western societies, some people welcome dogs into their homes, others do not.

I have a routine now, so at least half of Rosemary's dogs get regular people contact and walks. The other six I leave to the housekeeper and her husband More, though I try to check on them daily. At noon, I take my two plus another two to the store. I like the woman who owns it. She helps me with my Spanish and I actually enjoy both of us laughing at my mistakes. We laugh a lot. I see why it's been such a mistake in many villages when they've put in running water, thereby depriving women of the need to gather at rivers. Of course, all four dogs come inside, along with two others. It's a small space and there's a few growls.

We then head to the beach. A boat's just come in. The older woman with Kaiser her dog is there, waiting for a man who's perhaps her son. A shlew of other dogs gather. On the sand, lay four penquins. The first time I've ever seen this bird outside a zoo. They're dead. Each, no more than two feet tall. On CNN earlier this year I'd read they've been seen further north. I think it was because of shifting currents etc. I asked if it's for food, and a man described which parts were best. I'm not sure how they're killing them, my guess is they're getting caught in nets as there was no blood.

December 8, 2007

I realize this is such a precious time of life, me traveling with Dog and Bruiser through South America. And still my mind leaps to the future, and so diminishes the present. These thoughts are spurred by a trip to do email yesterday. I'd received an email from someone from the past. I hadn't realized how much I missed him, and am suddenly thrust mentally into a distant time in the future when I might see him again. And there goes my present life which is actually quite pleasant. I love getting emails. But they can tear your world in two.

When I first arrived here, there's were many dead pelicans as well as some sea lions on the beach as well as huge jellyfish. Whatever shifts brought them in has changed, and now, all I see are crabs. There's very little for the dogs to scrounge on the beach, so I buy fish from an older man who has a white dog. The fish are larger than sardines, and I saw it as an easy way to get some protein into all the dogs. But then the man said these were good for soup because of the soft scales. I get home, and start to clean them. I didn't come from a family who fished, and the first time I ever did this task was in the Costa Rican fishing village last year. I thought maybe since the scales were soft, I wouldn't have to gut them, but alas, that's not true either. I'm still eating small amounts of meat, and hunters always say rather self-righteously that people wouldn't be so down on hunting if they couldn't buy their meat from a store. Wrong. I would definitely go back to gardening and gathering. I'm not squeamish, I just don't enjoy the whole procedure.

Later in the day I cook a soup with yams and leftover spaghetti sauce, and add a little meat. It's very good... The dogs won't be getting as much as I'd thought.

December is supposed to be the month it gets VERY hot here on the North Coast of Peru. It's still chilly at night, and doesn't get sunny till 10 am. I'm hoping this trend continues till I leave.

December 7, 2007

I stop to photograph a dog I see outside a house which sits all by itself on a small hill-near the pueblo, with a stunning view of the desert wall, and a view of the ocean too. It's a ramshackle wooden structure. The older fisherwoman whose photograph you see halfway down the page comes outside and welcomes me to photograph her dog Kaiser, who's ten years old. (The grey dog by her side.) I express my surprise, partly because Dog and Bruiser are also ten, but because it's very rare to find dogs here that old. And he certainly doesn't look nearly as good as they. But, he must have a good regular diet of fish, since she was obviously proud of him.

December 6, 2007

I'm fascinated by the contradictions bestowed on our 'best friends'. Everywhere I go I see Suave toilet paper with dog designs imbedded in different colours. It's obviously popular or else they'd change the design to something like cats or a bouquet of flowers. What's ironic is dogs are obviously popular enough in this culture to have pictures of them in places private like bathrooms, not to mention what we do with the paper, though many would balk at the idea of letting their dogs inside the house. Dogs are often for guarding, or run loose on the streets. Of course, the toilet paper variety are tiny and cute puppies who doesn't resemble their street dog relative. And I think many people wouldn't consider them to be of the same species.

Having said that, the other day a Peruvian told me they preferred animals to people. Why is it I'm surprised hearing this from someone in this culture, but not in the US or UK? I shouldn't be. I remember meeting a man from the Gabbra tribe in Kenya who said, 'If anything happened to my dog, my life would not be worth living.' The day after his wedding, he'd walked in the middle of summer through the desert for two days looking for his dog who he'd be separated from in the midst of the celebrations. And found him.

December 5, 2007

I received an email from a new friend in the states who I met in Ecuador, saying how much fun she was having learning Spanish. I so wish I could say the same... Both myself and the man I'm trading lessons with struggle, and each say in the others language, 'Es muy dificile!' 'It's very difficult!' It was no different learning French, Arabic or Kiswahili. I'm just not cut out for languages. Though it could be I'm just not cut out for studying...

December 2, 2007

I'm off a day because I thought Friday was December 1st, and it turned out to still be November! I'm good at days of the week because it says on my laptop. Anyway, on Friday after doing email in Paita, I was to meet Marie Luisa and Noe on the docks to go see sea lions in the sea. It was fun saying that in Spanish too, the name for sea lion is lobo marino, or wolf of the sea.

No one showed at 2 pm. At 2:25, I called Noe. No reply. I KNEW they weren't going to show. What kind of friends are they? These were the thoughts which went through my mind, not unlike mental notes when I loose something, The maid took it.... Anyway who's lived overseas will recognize this tendency, and subsequent embarrassment when the missing item is found.

I decided dammit, I wanted to see the sea lions, it was Friday, I'd worked all week, I deserved it. I hired a boat. Twenty seconds after pulling away, I turned around and there was Noe. There was family trouble at Marie Luisa's house and she couldn't come. It was so great seeing Noe. It was also nice being out on the water, the first time since crossing from Panama to Colombia, which seems like years ago.

These were the first sea lions I've seen alive here. But it was in a crappy location. They hang out on a stretch of land next to a noisy fish factory. But it was lovely seeing their blubbery bodies. But one of those frustrating experiences where you wish you had your own boat, and then you could drift all day and watch them. Instead, we circled four times and returned to the dock a very generous 30 minutes later, so I shouldn't complain

December 1, 2007

Was having a productive morning writing when More came over and said there'd been an accident. A part time worker who does construction had fallen from a step ladder and slashed his foot on something. There was blood all around and they'd tied a piece of string around his ankle. There was sizzling hot water in the hose since it's so hot, so I poured that on, cleaned it, and discovered it wasn't that bad at all. What little I have in first aid was in the van, which was at the mechanics, so I bicycled the four blocks. The van was done, so I drove it back, patched him up with some gauze, antibiotic and duct tape. What wonderful stuff... Put one of my socks over his foot, which made a nice tight bandage. People here often don't wear shoes. It's an added expense, plus it's a dust/sand surface and easy on the feet.

I'm hoping this redeems me from yesterday. By morning, all that was left of the big fish head was bone. I'd saved some smaller fish heads and decided to give these to the dogs who right now, don't get out at all. Josefine was adament the dogs shouldn't have them. She's a bit possessive about 'her' house and 'her' work and I think she felt her territory was being usurped. She cited dogs vomiting. I said, while her husband More was there, that I'd been giving the five in my area fish heads for two weeks and there hadn't been problems. She claimed it was Lucy who vomited, but only when pushed for particulars. Well, Lucy is down on the beach every day eating everything in sight, which is why she's overweight. We finally agreed that the four I was wanting to give them to, could have them only if cooked. Well, this is totally ludicrous as when Rosemary is around, they go and eat them raw. They were street dogs for heaven's sakes. Dogs who live by the ocean eat raw fish all the time. Dealing with animals, is always about dealing with people-which is why it can be so trying!

Being around a pack of dogs is interesting. When we all returned late this afternoon, Bobbie as usual didn't want to come in, and the fat black one somehow scooted out. That left three inside. I knew getting Bobbie back in so quickly wasn't going to happen, so I tried coercing the fat black one. This is not a dog I particularly like as it jumps up and is whiny/clingy. So, when I approached her, she groveled. And then rolled on her back in a submissive gesture. Grrr. Irritating, so I tried pulling her up my the scruff of the neck. A mistake I later discovered.

When I got her inside, she was instantly attacked by another female who I've never noticed any sign of aggression. My guess is when the red one saw me, the pack leader, being aggressive, it lowered the fat black ones place in the hierarchy. And perhaps, the fat black one is at the lower end of the scale with the red one. I have noticed whenever one gets stuck out, it's always a bit submissive returning to the pack and often goes through a ritual of being thoroughly sniffed by the others. This reminds me a bit of monkey's, or other mammals, when once separated from the rest of the tribe over a certain amount of time, will not survive returning. Not too dissimilar to the difficulty humans have after being away from their culture for a long stretch of time, though I think the difficulty often is internal vs external.

As usual 9pm on a Saturday night and there's hardly a vehicle on the dirt tracks. When I say hardly, I mean perhaps hearing one every five minutes... max. That'll change within the month, when all the beach houses will fill up, all playing different competing music, lights drowning out the desert stars. I will be gone...