There are many creatures wandering or hovering around Granada, including lizards, chickens, horses, and cats. More than any other animal, however, are dogs. You can hardly walk a block without seeing a dog snoozing on the sidewalk, trotting down the street, or rummaging through trash. Many of the dogs are have shorter legs and shorter fur/hair than many dogs in the US (probably a natural selection phenomenon given the heat). Some of the dogs have collars and belong to families. But many more do not.
Many of the dogs have fleas that cause them to incessantly itch, gnaw at their legs or rub their backs against the iron grates that many people have in lew of front doors. Many of them have scars from the past, the details of which I am sure are disconcerting at best. Some of the dogs appear calm and friendly, some grown menacingly and make you wonder if you should begin to run. All of them are thirsty enough to drink out of the rancid water and waste streams and hungry enough so that their rib and hip bones protrude from their thin bodies.
Yesterday, several extremely off-putting incidents occurred regarding dogs that I cannot seem to shake. The following story is pretty gruesome, so I apologize in advance. On our way down to practice, we walk through an area that is littered with garbage. Sometimes there is burning trash in piles there (people burn their trash here) and it always reeks of rotting waste. On our walk yesterday, we spotted smoke rising from an area in the litter. As we got closer though, we realized it was not trash burning, but rather the carcass of an animal. As we got even closer, it was clear the animal was a dog. My stomach immediately did several turns and for several minutes, I thought I might puke (I even feel nauseous writing about this now.) I have no insight into why this dog had died or was being burned right near where children play soccer and baseball.
I wouldn't say I am an extreme dog lover, but I do love dogs (who doesn't!) generally for their companionship, cool factor, cuddly factor as well as practical benefits. But seeing this burning, rotting dog carcass was one of the most gruesome and upsetting scenes I have ever witnessed.
Later, on the way back from the field on the road, a dog ran alongside a trotting horse pulling a wooden cart on which two men and their goods sat. Both held massive rocks in their hands and as the dog sprinted alongside the cart, one of the men hurled his rock at the dog, who recoiled in a series of whimpers after it nailed him (or her) in the torso.
I do not know if my love for animals, dogs in particular, got the best of me, but I think from the latter incidence I can gather that the abundance of dogs here can sometimes be regarded as a nuisance, similarly to how I think of the rats who sometimes scurry around the first floor of Tres Pisos or the infinite mosquitoes that we sometimes get in the summertime at home. To think that dogs, "man's best friend" are at once considered pets and nuisances here is confusing to me and still fails to provide any answers for the dead dog on the way to the field. I think maybe what was more off-putting was that while my fellow interns and I felt sick to our stomachs at the sight of the dog, our Nicaraguan participants who walked in front of us hardly seemed to notice it. I hope they actually did not notice it, but the reality may be that such acts of cruelty are more commonplace than I would like to think.
