This is a statue from the Recoleta cemetary. The girl and her dog would be apropos for my gravestone. That is…when I get a dog. It’s also apropos since this city loves dogs so much. I think we must live next to the premier dog lovers’ park. The dog walkers bring their herds of dogs and tie them to the trees across from each other in the morning. Dogs bark back and forth while their owners drink mate (like South American green tea) and chat with each other.
Friday morning I left our apartment building to see, well, let’s just say canine sexual advances between many of the herd. Living around the dog life can be heartwarming and can drive me friggin bananas.
Sometimes I feel like Veruca Salt in Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: “But daddy–why can’t I ‘ave a dog? I wont one daddy! She’s got one. I wont one too!”
Sometimes I want to round up and steal away with all of the dogs to be spayed or neutered. I am horrified at the lack of animal control here. Especially in the midst of amorous canine love.
Before arriving, I joked about becoming a dog walker to make some extra money. I’ll be the first to admit that I would be too weak. I’ve seen women holding the leash of 15 (big) dogs. It’s not for the feint of heart.
I’m still trying to catch the dogwalkers (aka dogherders) in a picture, but they’re often out in the morning. I am just too blurry eyed to get out my camera.