I, luckily or unluckily (your opinion really), have seen my fair share of mating dogs whilst living in this country. Just one of the many perks of El Salvador. Actually, something even lovelier, is that commonly after their boink-fest finishes, the male dog tries to dismount… and… gets stuck. The first time I saw this, my jaw dropped, I double-taked, not believing what I saw. I’ve heard that the reason for this delightful little finale is that in the masculine canine reproductive organ there’s an actual bone (maybe that’s where the term came from…), and that the female dog tenses up post-coitally. So… although I’ve never timed it for sure, at least for a few minutes after baby-making, the two lovers are stuck together, tail to tail. One walks forward and the other walks backward. Until finally, like ripping off a band-aid, the male musters up the courage to take a sharp long stride, and yanks himself free. I’ve been keeping a running tally in my head each time I’ve been lucky enough to view this phenomenon, and the current number is 7, well, 14 dogs actually.
Many dogs here look like a freakish mix of breeds that shouldn’t go together. You imagine the possibilities… that one looks like a great dane/chihuahua mix. None are recognizable breeds. And I’ve noticed that a lot have peculiarly dachsundish builds, very long and low. The mating frenzy from all of these un-neutered and un-spayed dogs creates some interesting offspring. You look around and see ambiguous mutts all over the place.
But oh, not Charipa. No, she’s just adorable. Certainly a mutt, but she didn’t get any of the ugly genes. I’m very biased because she’s our dog and is very affectionate and reminds me of what I imagine Josh may have looked like as a puppy. But still, I think empirically she’s better looking than the masses of… well… uglies.
So it was with maternal affection and concern that I wanted to protect Charipa. When perras (female dogs) have their litters it wears on them. Mama dogs just don’t live as long here. And their “chi-chis” (as the Salvadorans love to call them), hang lower than Cameron Diaz’s roommate’s in There’s Something About Mary (I threw this one in hoping my friends would get the reference, but not my folks… sorry Mom and Dad), it looks like they have udders.
I knew that Charipa wasn’t spayed, and was nervous for when her “time” would come. I had just begun to talk to Mari about fixing our little perra right as she (euphemistically) “entered womanhood”. I started hearing the barks (cries more like) and immediately ran to her aid. The perros were hungry and Charipa was furious, she wanted none of it. I kept her with me all day if I could, she slept in my room, and I told the others to watch her, to keep her inside if they could. But alas, there were just so many dogs, and they only needed a minute (if they didn’t get stuck). A couple days after she cooled, we were all hanging around. I had Charipa on my lap and was giving her a belly rub. Sulma came over and said “Que MORADA!” I started wondering (what’s purple…? ) and then, I looked down. Oh… that’s purple.
Yes, my little Charipa got pregnant. Which has been bittersweet. I do worry about Charipa’s health, but… I’m getting a puppy! Yesterday Charipa gave birth to three puppies, two girls and a boy, who actually look more like rats right now. But hopefully they’ll get cuter like their mother, and hopefully they’ll survive (puppies and kittens have a pretty high mortality rate here). I’ll stay optimistic. I’ve never had my own pet, just mine, and have wanted my own dog here for a while. And I’ll be sure to fix mine, whatever the sex is.
So… in another topic entirely:
A really horrible event happened a few weeks ago. I don’t want to go into too much detail because I think that anyone who reads this blog probably already knows what I’m talking about. But I do want to assure you, loyal reader, that I am okay, and am doing well. Despite this terrible incident I love my community, or perhaps in spite of it. I love my caserio, and the people in it, and feel safe where I live. The quirk of fate here is that this thing made me realize that Los Cims is my home. I have a family here, and I don’t want to leave. I’m always a believer in the yin and yang of things and in this case, the silver lining is that when I imagined leaving here for a different site, my heart clenched. I realized then how genuine my affection is for this place and these people.
Interestingly, the yang of it all has arrived in the form of a shorter temper, less patience, and I guess overall pessimism to certain cultural aspects in general. In my English class the other day I caught myself complaining curtly to my students that the lack of studying shows. OUCH. But you know, this is a common part of the process for volunteers anyway. You can’t stay in dream-land forever, and eventually, some of the culturalities start to wear.
But se la vie, this place really wouldn’t feel like home if there weren’t certain things that bothered me about it anyway. We go on.
Jessica sporting the runt of the group. They don't have names yet.
Little Charipa "mamando," constantly breast feeding.
I mean really, they do look a bit more like rats right now.
