No Home...

As I came out of our apartment building this morning, I noticed an abundance of stray dogs. It's like they all came out of hibernation this week. Do stray dogs hibernate? And I got to thinking about it and realized I had heard a lot of barking last night. I continued on my merry way to the bus and when I glanced at the little park to my right, I saw at least 10 stray dogs, running around, fighting and yapping. One little chihuahua-type dog ran right in front of me and looked startled, as chihuahuas tend to do all the time.

All of a sudden, I noticed there was an Australian Sheperd-looking-type dog right behind me, sniffing my bag that was holding my shoes (I was wearing my wellies), water bottle, hard-boiled egg for breakfast, and my actimel that keeps my tummy in check.

I jumped and ran out of the way like a little girl.

I love dogs! I'm not afraid of them, and my theory is the bigger, the better. But I'm scared of stray dogs. They freak me out. They're so scraggly looking and they look like they might have some bloodlines that should be familiar to the common dog-lover, but not quite, and they are scavengers. They're stuck between domesticity and wildness, and they go back and forth without a moment's notice. I was afraid this dog might bite me. And give me rabies.

And then, she just stood there and looked at me all pitiful-like and I think she had been smelling my bag for food. I didn't tell her about my hard-boiled egg.

But I just felt so bad for her. I feel bad for all of these stray dogs. If they didn't freak me out so much and if we lived in a country where there were decent vets and if there was a humane society-type program, then I'd be very tempted to take in a stray, or at least give them to the shelter.

But I'm not. Maybe it has something to do with the dead ones I've seen in parking lots, on the side of the roads, and in the gutters. I dunno...maybe.