Dogs of South America

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Argentina is full of dogs.

There is one watching me now through the window of the hostel as I type this blog. He has big pointy sticking out ears, a small furry face and a sorrowful little yelp. I think he wants me to let me in - but the woman who owns this house refuses to let animals in the premises. A stray cat got in last night and was prompty chased out again with the broom.

The place where I stayed in Ushuaia had two dogs. One was small and fat, so it was given the name ´Gordito´, literally the little fat one. The other was much larger with wild blue staring eyes. This one was called Magellan.

Gordito followed me to town one morning. The hostel was a ten minute walk from the centre, and he trotted along by my side, uninvited. While I was at the internet cafe there he sat outside, occasionally wandering inside to make sure I was still there. When I finished on the computer an hour or so later, Gordito was still there, and he continued to follow me around town for the rest of the day.

Though named after a famous navigator, Magellan did not so much explore as continually run round and round in circles. He would leap through the front door of the hostel whenever it was opened, bound off down the steps, run round to the garden gate, leap over it, and crash through the back door to the hostel with a loud bang on his head, usually carrying a piece of wood which we would gnaw at vigorously, until someone else opened the front door and he began the same routine again. This would go on for three or four times until the irritated owner of the hostel would shout´Magellan, enough!". This would normally quieten him down for a few minutes until the front door was opened once more.

Several dogs made an appearance on the expedition in Bariloche. Pepe was a dopey black creature, with long silky fur and perpetual grin on his face. When we were camping one night in the cold he insisted in joining me in the tent, giving me a huge lick on the face before lying crossways across the tent floor and occupying all the available space for himself.

Polly was a stray at camp, who had been found very sick by the side of the road. She was a wild dog and much more aggressive and alert than Pepe. While walking one day, she was fast and agile enough to catch rabbits while Pepe loped along behind hoping for leftovers.

Both of these camp dogs terrorised a smaller, weaker and older brown dog which also lived on the site. She was the property of the gaucho who owned the land, and was only fed when he was around. Otherwise the dog needed to hunt or starve. In general she just wanted to lie in the sun, but usually one or other of Pepe or Polly would harass, fight with or otherwise disturb her peaceful days. When two small black puppies turned up, only a few weeks old, it did not take them long to follow the lead of the other dogs and start trying to maul and dominate her too.

Most of the dogs here run wild. Buenos Aires, Bariloche, Ushuaia, Punta Areans. All seem to have their fair share of strays. Though the ones in the colder, more remote south seem far more aggressive and hostile than those in the warmer northern regions. The southern ones look like wolves, and will vigorously defence any intrusion on their property. The accpeted tactic for dealing with them seems to be to pretend to bend down and pick up a stone and pretend to throw it in their direction. The northern ones are much more inclined to take a siesta, lie in the sun and generally not be bothered.

Only motorcycles seem to arouse their attention, and on several occasions a slumbering hound has been brought inexplicably to life and the roar of an engine and the sight of a two wheeled vehicle running past. This is the cue to attack, and they frequently chase after the bike at top speed, though whether this is to scare the bike off, take a bite from the rider´s leg or just to have a bit of fun remains uncertain.

Passing through a remote farm area in the land rovers one white bulldog-like creature decided to chase after the vehicle. I am not sure what he was planning to do when he caught up, but in the 100 yards or so that he was keeping up with the back wheels it was possible to see from the speedo on the car that he was running at about 40km per hour.

While taking Spanish classes in Buenos Aires, I was asked by the teacher whether I liked dogs. I replied that I did because they were lively, had personality and were generally lots of fun. She failed to see how dogs had any appeal whatsoever. What she wanted to say was that she thought they were dirty and shat in the street - but she was rather too refined and polite to know how to say this properly in either Spanish or English.

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