Dog days

Unlike in Thailand, where the streets are clogged with stray dogs, the streets of Mexico are clogged with owned dogs. Everyone has, like, six dogs, and they all run wild and mangy. But at least they are loved, so I guess it's a step up. Behold, my friends, the dogs of Mexico.

This is Babs, Greg and Alyson's dog. She is quite earnestly cute, if a bit snobby and cat-like in behavior. Also, she has epilepsy.

This is Chico. Chico is the most nervous dog I know, except maybe Dag (who has less cause, really), and also he hates me. This is maybe because I chomp him.

This is Banana. Banana is hilariously long in the body, and also exceptionally round. This is because she is terribly spoiled and will only eat wet cat food. She is my favorite dog.

These are tiny puppies from the pet store. I palmed their heads.

This is Dag, and these are his ribs.

Dag only comes by the house for a meal every few days, and he won't eat if you're watching him. He won't even come in the house unless you round up the cats and lock them in the bedroom.

This is Perro. He is a dog from one of the housebuilds, and is almost certainly diseased, but he is also desperately cute. I lasted three days before I petted him, and I didn't tell Joel. He has paint on his forehead, but it's not from me.

Also, we arrived home safe and sound.