An inquisitive old fart with a camera
This morning a crew is working on the new radiation tower near us. My only observations previously about radiation towers have been that a) they appear overnight, and b) they never go away. In this case, as far as I can tell, nothing has been done for almost three weeks.
Overnight, Uruguay-style.
From Syd this afternoon:
Was not there today. The tent was there, looking worse for wear. Definitely had not had a human sleeping in it last night, but perhaps a dog. The chain was still there. The bowl was also gone.
So, I guess the adage to “leave the campsite cleaner than you found it” also hasn’t permeated the Uruguayan psyche, but this appears to be an encouraging development.
A dreary, stormy weekend ends Semana de Turismo, as Uruguay refers to Easter week. Which means it’s over — the high season that runs mid-December through mid-March, and includes this past week. Flash back to a couple of summer sightings:
Vacaciones — a reminder what many people associate with the beach I take for granted year round.
A fleeting tribute to a significant amount of time.
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.
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:
The dog has moved again, but now there’s a tent that appears to have been inhabited by a person last night.
So….
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:
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.
My routine now includes afternoon walks with my goofy dog and Syd and his five dogs in who-know-who-owns-it 170 hectares/500 acres of scrub in Villa Argentina north.
Yesterday, we heard barking in the middle of it. Where barking shouldn’t be. We changed our return path to pass by again, but heard no more barking.
Today, we heard the barking again, and bushwhacked to find a scared, barking dog, chained to a tree. But with a little plastic bag of dog food. But also with a large bowl, presumably for water, overturned.
With six dogs in tow, we made little progress in connecting. Syd returned to leave it water.
Being Easter week, probably best if it stays there: our favorite vet in the campo is fully booked with pets until Monday.
Previously, Syd discovered the remains of a dog similarly chained, and left to die (it could have chewed through a rope). But there’s evidence of some care here. But still a chain. I’m not racing to judgment.
We’ll do what we can.
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.
Because why not. (What’s a Fusca?)
We have a casita (little house), currently unoccupied and predictably filled with all the stuff we don’t want somewhere else. Recently my wife suggested removing a piece of furniture, so I gathered what little was in it, including a couple in inexplicably filthy USD 1 bills our son had left behind.
So I washed them with soap and water.
It didn’t really help.
Alas, neither. Just a curious broken concrete arch, in the middle of 500 acres of notmuch. Most interesting is that Syd has walked his dogs here for years, and apparently this was new to him.