What about these island dogs? Who takes care of them? It would surprise you to know how many people you can ask these questions without a helpful answer.
This was back in the day before I knew anything about google, when ferreting out information was an art. Lord, help me I still complain about searching for info.
Roving vans of veterinarians were said to be neutering throughout the island. Others told us of a government department that handled the dogs. We were assured that somebody was doing something.
When you're post op, feeling like dog dirt...well, let's just say prayers were said.
My journey into the landscape of island dogs began in a drug induced stupor as I convalesced. The beauty of the island viewed from the car window was punctuated with free ranging dogs. Like a little kid, I chirped, "There's one!" It became my dog fix to see these dogs going about their business.
A friend gave us a tour of the Atlantic side of Puerto Rico, where I met the beach masters. The people here are good to these dogs at the beaches we began to frequent.
There is so much talk on the island that people don't care; I disagree, many care. We would arrive with our leftovers; this is my dinner these machos were sniffing with disdain. The real hot dogs pretended not to notice we were there, but let another male look in the direction of the offering plates scattered about his head testosterone would ooze out of his pours adequately to dissuade any lesser male.
For a long time I believed there was more going on to help the dogs, than there really is.
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