The Lives of Dogs in Akumal, Mexico
The dogs in Akumal are wild and free. Many run the sidewalks for food. They’re not so interested in human attention. They don’t care so much about being petted or “Ooo awws.” They’re looking for scraps. By the looks of it, many of them do just fine. They have full figures, athletic builds, no ribs showing. Some you can tell are a bit more raggedy. Their hair is in knots. They might have some bald patches.
On the sidewalk they wander about looking for food. Getting into the garbage. I wonder what happens if they eat something they’re not supposed to though? Don’t they know garlic and onion are deadly?
I work hard to keep Luca away from those.
And chicken bones, don’t they know they’ll splinter in your stomach? Do you know how many times I’ve been worried Luca might have eaten one and forced open her jaw so I could see if there was anything I could pull out? Feeling her throat to see if anything got lodged? Carefully feeling her stomach hoping I wouldn’t feel anything?
How do they manage on their own?
Maybe they don’t need a person. Maybe they don’t need love. But it seems like it’d make life better. For them. For us.
How do they survive?
Some dogs have this human-like awareness where they understand the difference between the sidewalks and the streets. They know the latter is dangerous and they stay away. Somehow they cross it at all the right times.
Or maybe they’ve just gotten lucky. Over and over again. These are busy city streets. I guess people aren’t surprised when they see a stray dog running. There’s more of an expectation for it. More of a pause.
In the middle of the street
Pickup trucks full of workers drive by on the busy streets of Akumal. There might be a pickup truck with 8 guys standing in the back coming back from a long day at work, standing with the breeze in their hair (the way every kid whose parents had a truck probably asked if they could do at some point, and were probably told, “No, it’s not safe.” Once you visit Mexico, you realize the real reason they said no is just that it was illegal. But here, those trucks whiz by.) Hopefully one of the men would call out to the driver and bang on the roof of the cab if he saw a dog crossing the street.
One dog was sitting in the middle of the street as we were driving through. We got right up to where the dog was and stopped. And he still didn’t move. We beeped. We waited. Finally he got up and walked to the other side, slowly, in no rush.
“He’s ready,” my friend joked. “He’s not afraid to die.”
Dogs who don’t need my help
On one of my first days in Akumal I was waiting in line to grab lunch when I saw a dog running right onto the streets where the cars were stopped at a red light. It was running right by the busy intersection. My instincts kicked in and I automatically started running towards this dog, thinking I could help.
No. This dog didn’t need my help. They don’t need anyone’s help. The shelters are all packed; there’s nowhere to even bring it to get help.
Some have collars and look like they might have gotten loose and are running free. It’s confusing. Do they belong to someone? Is there someone looking for them? Missing them?
One night a dog ran past us in a hurry on the sidewalk in the nearby town of Tulum. It was so odd. Where are you going? Running like the way Luca runs to me when we are separated at the park or the woods for a moment before she finally sees me again.
But this dog wasn’t running to anyone. And wasn’t running away from anything. It was just running.
I wondered why. And where to? What could it possibly have been thinking at that moment?
The Sweetest Mexican Husky
One day I was sitting on our deck by the beach reading a book when all of a sudden the most gorgeous husky ran up to me. So friendly. I petted him and he obliged. He had a collar, his name was Ohely, or something like that. The collar had a phone number, but when we called, no one answered. Who knows.
We got him some water. He was so playful. The way Luca gets when she wants to play. When she’s found a toy in her pile of toys that she’s decided to be obsessed with for the day. Yet he still had a wildness in him, and when he was done with the attention, he ran away again.
It made me miss Lou. I wished she was there with me. She’d be a lazy beach bum, lying at my side in the shade on the deck. I wonder if she’d try to drink the chlorine water in the pool. I wonder how many times I’d need to get her to stop.
But I guess the wild dogs here don’t need anyone.
It’s weird to not be needed. To be useless to them.
When you see my four-legged girl back home, it’s obvious that I’m the world to her. Or maybe I’d just like to think so?
No. She’s definitely got her eyes set on me.
But it makes me think if this is how a mother feels with her adult sons and daughters: how she still can’t resist reminding them to wear a jacket in case it gets cold out.
It’s a whole different life here, I guess. But I can’t help but think that it could be better, though. For them. For us.
When it rains
When it rains in Tulum, all the dogs gather and lie together under the awning of a store to keep dry. They’re there together. Alone, but together.
They sit or lie there a few inches from each other, in peace. It makes me wonder how they all get along so well. Or if maybe there are some that don’t? Is there a bully dog on this street and every other dog runs the other way when they see her cause she’s a jerk?
Is there the one guy with a fierce bite who always knows where the good scraps are?
What it’d be like to have someone to love
Oh, the lives of dogs in Akumal. Where they don’t seem to need us.
But it just makes me wonder, pup—what it’d be like if you had a person to love. A person who loved you back. A person who cared if you went missing. Who’d go out looking for you to make sure you were okay. Someone who would lose sleep trying to find you. Someone who would check your throat for lodged bones. Someone who would itch that favorite spot on your back that makes your butt wiggle.
Oh, what it would be like.
You could be someone’s soul dog, you know. And they could be your favorite person. But maybe it just has to be in another life. When you’re born somewhere else. Where you’re not just bent on surviving. I guess it’s a privilege to have love. To have someone to love.
If you’re starving in the middle of nowhere, you don’t dream about a soulmate. You dream about food. It’s only once you’re not in a state of constant stress, when you’re not focusing your energy on just surviving, that can you think about the higher things like love and partnership.
Maslow’s Hierarchy after all. Have you ever heard of that guy around here?
Anyway, if you all don’t need someone to love, and if nobody loves you–I still love you.
My wish for you, dogs of Akumal
I just wish you lots of food without the splintery bones in them. An inner sense of knowing when to cross the street. Cars that have attentive drivers to be patient with you if you don’t. Clumsy children who drop their scraps on the floor when you’re walking by. Fresh water left out by the store owners. And I hope that bully leaves you alone.
I do hope you find a friend you can roam the streets with. Another dog who doesn’t mind sharing when she’s found the bounty. Someone to meet up with to sleep and stay safe at night. A duo just intimidating enough to scare away any other predators. And someone to stay warm with when it’s rainy and cold. I hope for a deep sleep for you when you can. A quiet and safe place so you can rest.
In you is a spirit that’s so beautiful, so perfect. You make our lives better. And somehow through the lines, I know you’re related to Luca, too.
I know you don’t need me. You’re okay on your own. You can fend for yourself. But I just need to make sure you know that I’ll gladly leave you my extra tortilla. And I’ll itch that spot on your back, if you’d let me.
I know you don’t need it. I know it means nothing to you.
But if you walk by and if you’d let me, I’d still like to pet your sweet head. To wish you well on this journey.
Safe travels, friend.
I love you.