Category: Atlántida

From town to city

Heard today that Atlántida is now officially a city instead of a town, having a population of over — drum roll, please — 15,000 people. Only in Uruguay.

The "junk house" oF Atlántida, Uruguay

Here’s the “junk house” in the middle of Atlántida that we walked by today. You can walk by it yourself in Google Earth Street View:  34°46’18.01″S  55°45’17.51″W. You just won’t see the spinky-face dog.

 

Truck gets hit by dog

Yes, you read that right.

Benji disappeared into a yard, the second half of which, facing the potholed dirt road, has tall bushes. I couldn’t see him, but, leash in hand, was watching for movement through the bushes. Also monitoring the aging Doguita, who sensibly stays to the side of the road when a vehicle, such as a 50-year-old gardner’s pickup, lumbers toward us.

Sure enough, with impeccable timing and predictable lack of vector calculation, Benji comes blasting blind out of the yard and BAM! smacks into the truck. I thought he hit the bumper. Maybe he hit the fender. Anyway, an exceptionally loud noise. The driver stops, rolls down the window and I say in Spanish “They never learn.” Had I been a little quicker, I might have asked if his truck was OK. Whatever the look on my face, it must have been amusing. He smiles, says something, drives off with his workers. No big deal.

I think I detect a limp, but no, within 30 seconds Benji is on to the next house, yapping at the dogs behind the fence and running up and down with them, tails wagging.

(N.B.: I am careful to keep him on the leash where I know fast traffic is possible.)

banji-tennis-ball

Here’s the little darlin’ earlier today, once again delivering a destroyed tennis ball for me to kick 3 meters (max) from where I sit at my computer so he can chase it.

 

 

YADU (Yet Another Dog Update)

After reading comments and feedback, and wondering what can I do? I decided to distribute a little flier to every house in the neighborhood near the dog we found. Though not cold, today was windy and rainy.

aviso

NOTICE

At this moment, there is a dog chained to a tree within a few hundred meters of your house, in the woods. He has been left, with no shelter, for at least three days. The two times we have encountered him, he has had no water.

This may be intended as a temporary situation, but nonetheless it is cruel, inhumane, and in violation of Law 18.471, Responsible Animal Ownership.

If you know who is responsible for this, we encourage you to do what you can to put an end to it.

Before doing that, though, I wanted to be sure the dog is still there, and phoned Syd to see if he’d check, since he lives nearby. He did, returning home seconds before another deluge, to report this:

dog-update-2

The dog has moved again, but now there’s a tent that appears to have been inhabited by a person last night.

So….

Dog-in-the-woods update

I asked a question yesterday, and I meant it as a question: why do people do this?

I think we’re getting closer to an answer.

We heard the dog barking again today on our walk. We had food and water. As we got close to the brushy area of the dog, I veered off, hoping — ridiculously — the the six dogs of our entourage might follow. Of course they didn’t, so I went to see what Syd had found.

The dog had been moved. Chained to a different tree, 15-20 meters away.

The big bowl was there, again overturned. Syd rinsed it out and filled it with water, and left a “disposable” (I know…) plastic container with food. The dog barked the whole time. Our dogs were not really a problem. But look at this picture:

dog-update

Note that I can’t get close enough to get an image of the dog (close in to center, white paws at 1 o’clock), nor Syd, nor Jordan (black dog). In other words, the dog — in addition to being moved — is more hidden.

Of course, the dog totally betrays his position by barking, but he also barks defensively the whole time Syd provides food and water.

So, what to make of this? Mariana the Vet informs that this looks like a temporary arrangement. Family visiting for Easter (sorry, the secular Semana de Turimso — Tourism Week), building a fence, construction, whatever: needing a dog out of the immediate space for a limited amount of time. Not wonderful, but not bad. Not cared for as you or I might like, but not left to die.

Of course, time will tell. But, as I said yesterday, I am not in a rush to judgment. Hopefully, it’s all a non-event: some people parked their dog in the woods — horrible as you might think that — because they needed the dog to not be in their space for a bit.

Ya veremos. With time we will see.

And we will be watching.

Irónico

delivery

You don’t need much knowledge of the Spanish language* to recognize that “delivery” is not part of it.

And you can easily understand the value of a word like parking in place of estacionamiento. But in this case, the English word — with four syllables — is actually, and unusually, shorter than its Spanish equivalent: entrega.

Go figure.

*Castilian, or castellano. There are eight other languages spoken in Spain.

 

Count the dogs

dogs-tree

The Spinky-Faced Oriental Sandhound and I have walked a few times now with Syd and his five dogs on his private 197-acre reserve. Well, OK, it’s not actually his private reserve, but hey. Nobody else seems to particularly own it.

At this rest stop, one — Jordie, the alpha male — had temporarily abandoned his haram, searching, no doubt, for rabbits.

Leaving five dogs, pictured. Turns out the Spinky-face has found a kindred soul (Kiya, foreground).