Tooth and claw

Unfortunately, a large gang of wild dogs has moved into our neighborhood.  Our temporary apartment, where we stayed for the first three months, had a similar problem, with packs of aggressive neighborhood dogs chasing after us and trying to bite Max.  However, up until about a week ago, the parks next to our apartment had remained blissfully dog-free.  

This was unusual, because the city where I live has a major wild dog problem. They are called "vagabond dogs" or "community dogs." By some estimates, there are several hundred thousand wild dogs in the city.  I believe it.  The problem stems from several decades ago when the communist dictator at the time tore down vast portions of the city, replacing houses with apartment blocs.  Dogs were not allowed in the new apartments. Not knowing what else to do, their owners released them into the streets.  The problem has grown exponentially since.  

The city does not allow for euthanasia for stray dogs. Any that are picked up are possibly spayed or neutered, tagged in the ear, and released into the area where they were found. Seriously.  The public sentiment is that it would be cruel to kill them.  In my opinion, a brutal life of three or so years, scavenging trash cans for food only to be hit by a car and die is even crueler.  There are no adequate shelter facilities.  

Alone in an urban environment, the dogs band together and form packs.  They are territorial and become very agitated when Max and I encroach upon their perceived territory.  I can deal with three or four stray dogs (shouting or threatening to kick them is usually enough to scare them off, if need be.)  But ten or so is dangerous.  

This morning I went out jogging with Max. I knew where the group has been generally sleeping, so I took a wide berth around the park. It wasn't wide enough.  The sentry dog (one dog stands watch while the others sleep) raised the alarm. They all began to wake up, barking angrily. I ran across the road, and fortunately they didn't follow.  It's really hard to predict where they will be.

Max was pretty unconcerned and set about doing his morning business. I was picking up after him, thinking how I was probably the only person in the whole city who bothers to do so.  Max bounds ahead and lunges at something on the ground.  Max is not known for his discerning palate, but I was worried he was going to choke on a bone or something, so I reached into his mouth.  Bad choice.  I will not go into any additional detail, only to add that my theory about people picking up after their dogs was proved 100% correct.  It was also raining.  

Some days it's hard to live here.