Stray Dogs

There sure are a lot of dogs here in Santiago.  Strays?  That’s a good question.  They don’t wear collars and seem to roam wherever they like without any restraint, but they are amazingly well kempt.  I’m not saying they’re salon fresh with a perm or anything like that, what I’m saying is that they aren’t disgusting.  Their ribs aren’t poking out and their coats aren’t filthy; were you to pet them you’d wash your hands before eating but you wouldn’t be grossed out.

I draw attention to this fact for a few reasons.  One is to point out how different this is from other cities I’ve travelled in South America.  Most places I’ve travelled have their fair share of strays but they look like strays.  I wouldn’t touch those poor dogs in Bolivia with the butt of an umbrella…mangy.  So, does the condition of strays point out some socioeconomic differences in the countries in South America?  Of the four countries I’ve travelled, I’d rank the condition of the strays in the following way (from worst to best condition):  Bolivia, Peru, Argentina, Chile.  It may seem obvious, but the difference is striking.

Also, strays are friendlier here.  The only dogs that have barked at me or tried to nip at my heels while I run in the park have owners, people who keep them on leashes and pat them on the head for keeping them safe.  These owned dogs feel it is their duty to chase anyone who comes close to their keeper (a.k.a. food vending machines).  The strays, on the other hand, seem free from these duties and are generally found sleeping in sunny spots on the street or in the park.  They may perk up if it seems like you have food or are going to step on them, but otherwise they seem oblivious to their human counterparts.

It is this kind of freedom that has led me to start, what I feel are, some genuine friendships with a few of the strays here.  Friendship may be too strong a term so let’s call it genuine friendliness.  When I was in Buenos Aires I remember one little mutt that my friend Hadley and I called “el perro mayor”, who didn’t seem like he had many years left in him.  After watching him get into a pretty nasty fight with a few larger dogs we took pity on him and patted the matted fur atop his little gray head.  He followed us home and we thought, how cute, let’s give him some food.  When we came down the steps with some salami and bread he wasn’t there.  We hunted him down where he lay in the midst of a group of drummers and tried to give him the food.  He looked at the bread with disgust, took the salami, and left us.  No recognition of friendship, no nod of thanks.  I felt cheap.

Here in Santiago there have been numerous dogs who recognize me and there have been no exchanges of food for these courtesies.  There’s the big German shepherd who is old and weary; hanging out in the Bellas Artes neighborhood.  I saw a business man step on him and offered him a place to sit next to my patio table.  He was grateful and put his head on my lap.  There’s the weird jackal looking dog that resides in the mountain park in Santa Lucia.  She always follows me about and has even led me to beautiful views.  I’ve gone to this park several times and she always comes up to me looking to be pet—no food involved.  There are others, my dog friends. 

To summarize my findings, apparently, the richer the country, the better shape their stray dogs seem to be in.  It isn’t quite that simple and there are, I’m sure, exceptions.  It should be the same with the treatment of the poor but then I think of the United States…Secondly, the more freedom dogs have the friendlier they are.  They aren’t confused by their place in a human hierarchy, desperately struggling to fit in by attacking people outside their immediate group.    The exceptions to this rule are the stuck up dogs in Buenos Aires who poop all over the streets and are snooty about their food.  You can draw your own conclusions from that.