April 6th in Greece

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So today we left the Dovitel Hotel, and took a tour of the Perama Caves. I would write about it, because it was very beautiful, but the whole day was overshadowed by a very bad incident. Something that has altered my entire outlook of my time spent here, something that has hurt me deeply.
We have been dealing with dirty looks from old men, and sleazy looks from young men. We have had rude people, and people who have made it clear they only deal with us so they can have our money. I was overlooking that, ignoring it for the most part, because there is a cultural difference, and two lone women, traveling so far is probably so far from the relm of life for them, it becomes a bit scary. Also because we have met some truly lovely people on the road, who have been tolerant of our ignorance and total butchery of the language. They laugh at us, and then try to help our pronunciation.
But this... this is so awful.
For those who do not know, there is an over abundance of dogs and cats roaming this country. Many have collars, and belong to someone, have a safe haven, even if they are a little thinner than I am used to, or have not been bathed in quite awhile, or are running loose with crazy drivers everywhere. So, ok, I can cope. Not the way I treat my dogs, but then I know I go a little over the top with mine.
We were waiting for our guide in the Perama Caves, when a little lab mix, still a puppy, maybe 6-8 months old, came into the little courtyard where we were waiting. There was a man standing there, and this puppy trotted toward him, belly low, tail wagging. He flinched away when the man turned. Red flags there. He saw me, and I made those high pitched sounds dogs seem to love, and he grinned. You know how some dogs lift just the upper lip from the front teeth? He was so funny. He wiggled his way to me, and immediately rolled over for tummy rubs, which I obligingly did. I noticed he was skinnier than most, but still thought "he must be someone's pup". I had seen several in Perama who did belong to people, so I knew there must be some dog lovers. I rubbed his tummy, and he was so happy, he peed. You know how baby boys always do that when you take the diaper off? And how far it can go? He nearly nailed Christina!
About that time, they called the tour, so we went in, and walked through the caves. Being a classically trained geologist, I was in heaven, but in the back of my mind, I could still hear that puppy cry as I walked away. I hate that sound. And I know not to look back at them when they do it, it is a great manipulation tool my dogs employ to get extra cookies. But again, I thought he had someone to go home to.
After the tour, we walked down the hillside with the guide, and were met by one of the local dogs who makes his rounds, and is well known to all. I asked the guide about the dogs, do they belong to people, she said yes. So I asked about that little black puppy who made me smile. Her reply was "No, he is a stray, someone dumped him here. He will die pretty soon, he is too skinny." That was it. Like saying "I am going to have beans for dinner tonight."
All the way back to the hotel I looked for the little black puppy, hoping to find him. Fighting tears, sick to my stomach. I watched, carefully. Perama is not big. I watched every side street as we walked, watched as we drove away. The whole time hearing him crying as I walked away, into the caves, never looking back.
Since then, I have been in a foul mood. I am sad, angry, miserable.
I want to go back and find him, bring him home with me and spoil him. But how? I don't know what to do, or who to call.
My trip is permanently marred. Greece holds no more magic for me. I doubt I will come back here.
I know many who would think I am being silly. It is one puppy, and consider how many others suffer, and it happens in the US as well. All true. I get that. But in the US, I can call or email animal control. I can pick up a dog and take it to any Humane Society in almost any town. I can get that information from the web easily. If I don't read english, I can have google translate it for me. Here? I have no clue. I know part of that is on MY shoulders, because I do not know enough. But I know part of it is also on the people of Greece, for not caring about these animals.
This little dog needs someone, because there is no way he was tough enough to survive on his own in a harsh world. He will die, slowly, of hunger, unless he is hit by a speeding car to die in the ditch, or is killed by a bigger dog. A quiet cocktail putting him to sleep forever would be better than any of those choices.
And I truly do believe you can judge the society based on the way they treat their animals. It shows a grace and compassion, an empathy and consideration to be cognizant of the suffering of something weaker than themselves.

And I hate myself right now for not going back there and staying to find him. This will haunt me for a long time to come.

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