Who's Dog is That?

Gustavo: Gustavo our stray companion in Colonia, UruguaySouth America is a fascinating continent. The vast differentiation in cultures, customs, and overall ways of life on this half of the world have captured my attention and intrigued me. Among all the empanadas, maté (a kind of local herbal tea) and language barriers, the role of dogs in this part of the world have particularly caught my curiosity.
Like in much of the U.S., and especially New York, dogs are very popular pets. In South America however, dogs give new meaning to the phrase “loyal companion,” that is so commonly used in North America. At home, this phrase generally describes the tendency of most dogs to obey their owner’s requests, to be happy and provide steady companionship, and, in the case of golden retrievers and other water loving breeds, to be willing to risk their own life for that of their owners.
While I have not seen any aquatic dog rescues here or in the States, the “loyal companionship” that I have witnessed in South American dogs is far superior to anything I have seen elsewhere. Instead of spending my fifteen minute morning commute weaving through dog leashes and diverting away from viciously slobbering monsters as I do in New York, I often spend it wondering which dogs belong to which pedestrians, as leashes are not considered common practice. While this policy would undoubtedly cause sheer pandemonium and a shortage of tetanus in a place like New York, the dogs here are much more independent. They are seldom restricted to leashes and follow their owners with absolutely no considerations of straying from this path. Half the time I cant even tell which dogs are strays and which have owners because the human in charge of said animal rarely even glances backward to look for them, let alone ask it to do anything.
There is a relationship of trust between animal and man here that I have never experienced. These lack the sense of captivity and urge to be “free” from the constrictions of rope and fences as so many pets at home demonstrate by tugging relentlessly at leashes and chewing collars until they break. There is no temptation to be anywhere other than where their owners are going, and no sense of overwhelming authority to intimidate them. Walking side by side on the street, these couples look like real companions, patiently stopping for each other at a bakery or particular fire hydrant.
There is also a sense of patience in Argentine dogs. I was in the ATM vestibule the other day with about twenty other people, and there was a beautiful border collie sitting in the middle of the room. It had no leash on, but was just waiting patiently. After a few moments, the collie got up, stretched its legs, and began to walk down the long line for the ATM and visit with each patron. Still not knowing whose dog it actually was, I began to think it was a stray that had come inside for shelter. Once it visited with the last person in line however, it cocked its head toward the machine and began slowly making its way to the door. Sure enough, its owner was the older gentleman who had been using the machine. Despite the line’s coos and attempts to pet it one last time, the collie headed straight for the door when it sensed its owner was finished, and they left together without uttering a sound.
Another thing I have noticed about dogs in South America is the amount of strays. Around almost every corner there is a stray dog meandering the streets by itself. Contrary to strays in the states that are constantly hounded by animal control and sent out of the streets, strays in and around Buenos Aires are treated like squirrels are in any other city. They are widely accepted as a backdrop among the trees, parks and pigeons, and are generally left at peace to mind their own business. They are not malnourished, diseased, growling dogs like one may think when they imagine stray dogs, but are well fed, and peaceful creatures that spend their days looking for companionship.
On a day trip to Colonia, Uruguay a few weeks ago, my friends and I encountered one such dog within thirty minutes of entering the small cobblestone town. As we sat at an outdoor table at a local restaurant, a stray dog approached the restaurant and proceeded inside. Shortly before we left the restaurant, the dog emerged and meandered around the street. When we left, the dog followed us. After about ten minutes we realized this was going on, and I was fascinated at how devoted this dog was to staying at our side. When we stopped to look at something, he paused until we were done. If we slowed down, he jogged ahead and waited for us at the corner. When he stopped to investigate a tree stump or a hole in the ground, he would run to catch up with us, and would look at us with quizzical eyes, as if to beg “why did you leave me back there?”
Since all three of us are away from home and miss the comforts of pets, we were excited at the idea of having a dog for a day. We named him Gustavo, and continued to explore the town for a few hours. I could not believe how loyal he was after only knowing us for half a day, and I marveled at how well behaved and patient he was. At the end of the day we parted ways with Gustavo and headed back to the ferry.
It was this trip that really made me think about the differences in South America dogs and North American ones. Dogs in America remind me of rambunctious teenagers, dying for freedom and the chance to be independent, whereas dogs here remind me more of adults. They are mature and patient, and have enough smarts to realize that they are much better off with their owners than scrounging for food alone at every corner.