As I vacationed/visited family in Puerto Rico this holiday season, I had the opportunity to meet lots of doggies. There’s a couple in particular that I’d like to introduce The Ave to:

First, there’s the family pooch, with aliases Perri (roll the r’s please) and Puff. I’m not sure what mix he was, but there’s definitely some Chihuahua in those bloodlines. He’s what we called, “perro adoptado a la fuerza,” or “forcefully adopted dog.”

Perri was a street dog who apparently came to my grandparents’ house with a busted leg, got fed, and decided to stay. I really enjoyed meeting him. He was always sooo happy. His tail only ceased to wag when he was sleeping. If one went to pet him, he’d stand up on his hind legs and brace himself on you to make petting more convenient. He was protective of his family – barked in warning whenever someone was at the top of the hill, and he never begged for food. He just sat there silently, biding his time, knowing he’d have his soon. I couldn’t believe how well behaved this lil dude was considering he’d just wandered on in and made himself a home. This little guy was truly a pleasure to know.

Then, I met a puppy, named Puppy. OH MY GOSH. I so wanted to kidnap him. I met him on a visit to one of my dad’s uncle’s house. I didn’t spend too much bonding with family there, however. I fell in love with this furry little guy instead. I’m not sure I’ve said “aww” so much in such a short period of time before.

Although I had a great time with family, person and pooch alike, I have to point out that not everything was so heavenly. I noticed a few differences this time around in Puerto Rico (at least in the town I stayed in) that I guess I never really noticed before I had a furry child of my own.

• Dogs aren’t really allowed inside the house there. Aside from my cousin’s Yorkie Sweetie, none of the dogs I met were house pups.
• They seem to be more of what some people (not me!) refer to as “real” dogs. In conjunction with kibble, they eat people’s leftovers and maul down bones like they’re nothing.
• I did not see one single neutered dog there. Not one.
• Because of the aforementioned difference, there are stray dogs everywhere. On a brighter note, most of them actually seem super happy and often travel in pairs or packs.
• People tend to nurse their injured/sick dogs themselves more often than taking them to the vet. I’m not sure if that’s because of financial issues or if that’s just the traditional way of doing things there.

Although I had a wonderful time meeting a million furry friends and reconnecting with family, I was definitely happy to go home and see my spoiled little Roxiford Jones again.

And just for kicks, here are the other pooches I met while on vacation: