All homes in residential areas of Santiago are fenced. Lurking behind the fencing you’ll usually find at least one dog. Most homeowners leave their dogs out in the yard 24/7. So walking in residential areas can be a little annoying, as dogs bark at you from behind the fences, often pressing their snouts through the spaces and flashing their teeth. At night, if one canine starts barking, it touches off a round of barking in the hood. Also annoying.
I’m somewhat lucky, though. While there is a dog in the home where I’m living, he’s not the barking sort. His name is Motec, and he’s a big bad mutha fucker. He’s a Dogue de Bordeaux, and his head is as wide and hard as a cinder block. His chest is like that of bull, his strength like that of an ox. He will not be pushed around. No one or no thing fucks with Motec. I certainly don’t. He’s also stubborn as fuck.
Sometimes when he’s out in the yard and gets lonely, he’ll start to moan and cry. Big baby. During these cry-baby episodes, he’ll occasionally start pawing at my door, his nails raking the cheap wood. Sometimes I answer the door and talk to him; other times I just go about my business.
I appreciate that Motec is not a barker. But what he conserves in using his voice, he makes up for with saliva and accumulated food in his sizable, fleshy jowls. A few times now, he’s come to sniff me, only to leave my pants and jacket smeared with a mix of doggie spit and masticated dog food. Fucking gross. If I ever have a dog, it will be of a manageable size and without flappy jowls.