Tag Archives: dogs

San Miguel’s Oldest No-Kill Shelter: The Lifesaving Work of the S.P.A.

By Megan Gabel—

The Sociedad Protectora de Animales de San Miguel de Allende, A.C. is the oldest no-kill shelter for cats and dogs in San Miguel de Allende. Since 1980, we have provided food, care, and a safe place for stray, abandoned, and homeless animals. Today, we are home to 35 dogs and 20 cats. Our volunteers and staff offer daily love, attention, and support to every animal in our care.

We have a lower-cost in-house clinic with a full-time veterinarian who provides medical care to our shelter animals as well as pets belonging to others in the community. The clinic is open to the public and offers puppy, kitten, and adult wellness packages to keep veterinary costs manageable.

As a no-kill shelter, the S.P.A. is committed to finding homes for all of our animals, no matter how long it takes. We encourage adoptions through a very reasonable all-inclusive adoption fee. Our adoption fee is only 600 pesos, far less than the out-of-pocket costs we incur for tests at intake alone. When we are able to accept an animal, we request a donation to help defray expenses. We are mindful that when a shelter animal is adopted, it saves two lives: the animal who goes home and the one who now has space to come in.

We warmly welcome volunteers and value their help socializing cats and dogs and taking dogs for walks. The feedback we receive from volunteers is extremely positive—they enjoy their time at the S.P.A. and are complimentary about our animals and facilities. The best way to arrange a volunteer visit is to write to info@spasanmiguel.org, so we can exchange information and schedule an interview.

Our adoption process is simple. We encourage potential adopters to explore our website (www.spasanmiguel.org) in advance to see the animals currently available. It’s helpful for us to know who caught their eye and which animals they’re most interested in meeting. Upon arrival, we begin with a brief interview to learn more about the potential adopters and what kind of life they can offer a cat or dog. We also ask what qualities they’re looking for—small, medium, or large dog; male or female; preferred age range; preferred energy level. We know our animals well and can guide adopters toward the best match. Cat adopters are then invited into the cattery, where our adoptions/volunteers coordinator helps them meet potential companions.

For dog adoptions, potential adopters sit in the Jardín, where staff bring out dogs that match their preferences. After each meeting, we ask a few questions to determine whether we’re heading in the right direction. The only time constraint is feeding time, around 1:30 p.m., when dogs are far more interested in their food than in greeting new people. Adoption hours are Monday–Saturday, 11 a.m.–2 p.m.

Once a cat or dog is chosen, the next step is payment of the adoption fee, an optional adoption kit (250 pesos), and an exit exam by our veterinarian. A mandatory free two-week follow-up visit is scheduled, and our Adoption Return Policy is signed.

Although we are not a rescue organization, we do work with rescuers. Maria and Yaba are examples of dogs taken in through rescue partnerships. We frequently receive Facebook messages about abandoned or mistreated animals, with people asking us to send someone out to help. As much as we would like to, the S.P.A. cannot directly intervene—we lack the personnel, finances, and, in some cases, legal authority. Space, particularly for dogs, is extremely limited, and we cannot create room when we are full.

We accept animals from rescuers and Canine Control when space allows. Beyond space, we must also consider health, adoptability, and temperament. Before admitting any animal, our veterinarian performs a thorough exam, including parvo and distemper tests for all dogs. We cannot accept feral cats, and we must assess each animal’s level of socialization before making a final decision.

Mocha and Bonnie are examples of stray dogs now safe at the S.P.A. and waiting for forever homes. Lucky and Jazmin were saved from near-certain death at Canine Control. Litters of homeless kittens—like Ollie, Diego, Zara, and Darcy—have found refuge and warmth with us.

If you encounter abandoned puppies or kittens, we can guide you. It’s a difficult situation—walking away is painful. If you choose to rescue an animal, that animal becomes your responsibility. Call us, and we will let you know if we can take one or more of the animals or offer alternatives. Even when we are full, we can add your rescues to our waiting list.

The S.P.A. is a private non-profit organization. Donations are our only source of income. We receive no government support. Our major annual fundraiser is the Pet Food Money Bank, launched each May to raise the funds needed to feed our shelter animals for the year. Thanks to our generous supporters, we have reached our goal every year since 2015.

Our clinic provides top-quality veterinary services, led by our excellent full-time veterinarian, Dr. Omar Córdova. We offer routine care (checkups and vaccinations), diagnostics, x-rays, lab work, sterilizations, other surgeries, and emergency care. The clinic is open Monday–Saturday from 9 a.m.–3 p.m., and until 4 p.m. on Tuesdays and Saturdays (our discount days). Adoption hours are Monday–Saturday, 11 a.m.–2 p.m.

We are located at Los Pinos 7, near the bus station. Phone: 415-152-6124
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Visit our website for a map: http://www.spasanmiguel.org
Stop by—we’d love to meet you!

The Rise of Perrhijos and Fashion for Pets

By Ximena Collado—

Over the past few years, something interesting has happened in the world of pets. Dogs and cats have become a huge part of our families — and for many young adults, they’re basically our perrhijos. Because of this, the way we care for them has changed, and so has the way we express our love for them. Pet fashion has grown a lot, becoming a fun and personal way to show who we are through the pets we love.

Today, things like bandanas, leashes, and collars aren’t just simple accessories. They add personality, color, and identity to a dog’s everyday life. More and more people want meaningful pieces that feel special: well-made items, sustainable materials, and products created with intention. Pet fashion has become an extension of our lifestyle. A small accessory can say a lot about the bond we have with our pets and how important they are to us.

But while pet fashion keeps getting more popular, there’s another reality in Mexico that can’t be ignored. Millions of dogs live on the streets without food, protection, or medical care. Mexico has one of the largest stray dog populations in the world, and most of these dogs will never find a home. Rescue groups work incredibly hard, but adoption alone is not enough. Animal welfare experts agree that the only true long-term solution is mass sterilization. Sterilizing dogs is the most humane and effective way to reduce suffering and prevent new litters that continue the cycle.

For one of Amikoo’s founders, this issue became personal the day he and his girlfriend went to a local shelter to adopt a dog. When they arrived, they were shocked to find more than 100 dogs waiting for a home. The staff explained that most of those dogs would never be adopted. Among the hardest to place were big, black, male dogs — often overlooked because of their size, appearance, and stereotypes. Despite this, the couple chose exactly that: a large, black, male dog who immediately won their hearts. That experience stayed with them. It opened their eyes to the magnitude of the problem and planted the seed for what would later become Amikoo.

In the middle of this mix of love, concern, culture, and creativity, Amikoo was born — a brand that blends pet fashion with real purpose. Their products are beautiful, but what makes them special is the story behind them. Amikoo works closely with artisan women from Chiapas who create the textiles for their dog bandanas using telar de pedal, an ancestral weaving technique passed down for generations. This traditional process takes hours of careful work, resulting in unique pieces full of cultural meaning. By using telar de pedal, Amikoo helps preserve a technique that has been part of Mexico’s identity for centuries.

But Amikoo’s support doesn’t stop at paying fair wages. They also run health campaigns so the artisans can access medical checkups and basic care — something that is often difficult to get in their communities. This shows how committed the brand is to taking care of the people behind every product.

Amikoo also designs dog collars made with cactus-based vegan leather, an eco-friendly material created from the nopal cactus. It’s durable, soft, sustainable, and proudly Mexican. This material reflects Amikoo’s mission: to care for animals, support communities, and protect the environment.

Most importantly, Amikoo uses part of its funds to run sterilization campaigns for stray dogs, directly contributing to the only long-term solution experts believe can reduce the suffering of millions of animals on the streets. This gives every purchase real purpose and real impact.

Amikoo started with a simple but powerful goal: to help dogs and help people at the same time. Their work supports artisan families, protects cultural traditions, and funds sterilization efforts across Mexico. Every product supports these efforts and makes a real difference.

If you want to be part of their mission and bring a touch of color and meaning to your dog’s style, you can find Amikoo’s products on Amazon. Every purchase helps the artisans, the dogs, and the communities involved.
Shop Amikoo on Amazon: Click Here

 

From Pad to Product: The Rise of Cactus Leather

By Ximena Collado

Have you heard of cactus “leather”? Cactus leather is an innovative, sustainable alternative to traditional leather—plant-based, low-impact, and 100% vegan. This unique material represents an exciting shift toward greener and more responsible products.

Mexico is home to over 3 million hectares of cultivated nopal cactus, making it one of the country’s most important and versatile crops. Beyond its culinary and cultural value, nopal is now proving to be a sustainable powerhouse in materials innovation. Cactus leather production uses up to 99.9% less water than animal leather—around 20 liters per square meter compared to 33,000 liters—and relies solely on rain-fed plants that thrive in arid conditions without pesticides or herbicides. The harvesting process is regenerative, allowing mature pads to be removed every few months without damaging the plant. What’s more, the leftover cactus pulp is repurposed, creating a zero-waste, circular system. With significantly lower carbon emissions and no toxic chemicals used in processing, cactus leather represents a meaningful shift toward more ethical and environmentally responsible alternatives.

The process of making cactus leather starts with harvesting mature pads from the prickly pear cactus without harming the plant. The pads are carefully cleaned and sun-dried for several days to remove moisture naturally. Once dried, they are ground into a fine powder and blended with bio-based resins and natural pigments to form a flexible, eco-friendly material. This mixture is then pressed onto a textile backing to create durable, leather-like sheets that are soft, breathable, and sustainable.

The result is a high-performance, partially biodegradable vegan material celebrated for its strength, elegance, and minimal environmental footprint.

One of the companies leading the way is Amikoo, which creates eco-conscious pet accessories crafted in Guanajuato. Amikoo offers collars and bandanas in a wide range of colors and sizes, blending contemporary design with a commitment to social impact. Their mission goes beyond sustainability: the company actively supports Mexican indigenous communities and promotes conscious, ethical production. Through their non-profit association, Xana Artesanías, Amikoo raises funds for vital initiatives, including health campaigns for indigenous women and sterilization programs for stray dogs in rural areas.

Want to make a difference with your next pet accessory? Treat your dog to a beautiful, eco-friendly collar or bandana by visiting http://www.ami-koo.com or finding Amikoo’s collection on Amazon. Every purchase supports sustainability and helps empower local communities.

Pirate’s Story and the Not-So-Hidden Blemish on the Oaxacan Coast

By Arlene Prunkl

There is a blemish on the Oaxacan coast, a dark side that often goes unnoticed. While articles highlight the state’s gorgeous beaches, sunshine, and vibrant culture, they rarely mention the region’s massive dog overpopulation problem and the human cruelty toward these animals. Of an estimated 62.7 million dogs in Mexico, nearly one-third—18.8 million—are strays, wandering the streets, abandoned, abused, and often starving. Tragically, some of these dogs are poisoned or shot, and others face even more unimaginable cruelty, such as being buried alive.

Pirate’s Story
We first wrote about Claudia Mamet in The Eye in November 2023, where we highlighted her dedication to rescuing abused, abandoned, and injured dogs in the Puerto Angel area. In addition to her role teaching at UMAR, Claudia operates the nonprofit Dogs of Puerto Angel, where she works tirelessly to save some of the most severe cases of animal cruelty. In early September, Claudia received a call from a local citizen who had filmed a dog that had been buried alive, a video so graphic it was difficult for many to watch.

When Claudia arrived at the site near San Pedro Pochutla, she found the dog—whom she named Pirate—barely alive, buried under heavy rocks and dirt with his paws and muzzle bound. He was emaciated, his body covered in ticks, with shredded paw pads and a large cancerous tumor on his penis. Pirate was too weak to stand on his own, but Claudia was determined to help. She rushed him to the vet, where he was put on IV and treated for the hundreds of ticks that had infested his body. A foster home was needed, and Marlene Beattie, known for her rescue work in Huatulco, generously offered her home.

Pirate spent six weeks in recovery, during which he gained the strength for surgery to remove the tumor, performed on October 30. Unfortunately, despite his progress, Pirate succumbed to renal failure just one week after his surgery. Claudia poignantly shared on social media: “Pirate could’ve left this world on September 10 never knowing love or compassion. But by some miracle, someone heard his whimpers and freed him, giving him a chance to feel love for the first time in his life.”

A Widespread Issue
Pirate’s case is just one of many. Journalist Patricia Pacheco covered Pirate’s story, reporting that animal cruelty is alarmingly common on the coast. She interviewed Claudia, who said, “Animals are beaten, deprived of food and water, tied up without shade, and poisoned. All these acts are crimes punishable in Oaxaca. We urge citizens to report them and authorities to enforce existing laws.”

The Path to Change
Tackling this crisis requires a three-pronged approach: education and awareness, law enforcement, and sterilization.
1. Education and Awareness
Raising awareness is crucial to fostering a cultural shift in how domestic animals are treated. Education programs targeting locals, long-term residents, children, and tourists can help promote respect for animals. Communities must recognize that abandoning or mistreating animals has broader consequences. Through awareness, citizens can demand stronger enforcement of animal welfare laws and become active in rescue efforts.
2. Law Enforcement
While laws exist against animal cruelty in Oaxaca, enforcement is severely lacking. Harsher penalties and stricter oversight are essential. Current laws are often ignored, allowing abuse to continue unchecked. Activists, rescue organizations, and concerned citizens must pressure officials to prioritize animal welfare enforcement.
3. Sterilization
Sterilization is one of the most effective ways to address overpopulation. Nonprofits like Snipsisters and Palmas Unidas organize regular sterilization campaigns, often operating with limited resources. Since 2019, Snipsisters has sterilized over 8,000 dogs and cats in Puerto Escondido and surrounding communities. Palmas Unidas has sterilized 7,242 animals over nine years, while Dogs of Puerto Angel sterilizes approximately 1,000 animals annually.
Fundraising is critical to these efforts, as donations cover veterinary costs, medications, and supplies. Yet the demand for sterilizations far exceeds the resources available.

The Bigger Picture
Mexico ranks third globally—and first in Latin America—in animal abuse, according to INEGI (Mexico’s Institute of National Statistics and Geography). The issue is as severe on the Oaxacan coast as it is elsewhere in the country. Hiding the problem from tourists will only worsen it; addressing it requires systemic change.
Fortunately, long-term residents, locals, and organizations are stepping up. Many tirelessly work to rescue animals, educate communities, and advocate for stronger laws. These efforts offer hope, but more support is needed.

Helping Street Dogs in Puerto Angel

By Debbie LaChance

When we think of life in Mexico, our minds often conjure idyllic images of beautiful beaches, glistening blue waters, and endless sunny skies. While this is undoubtedly true, there’s another, less idyllic aspect to Mexico: it is home to the largest population of stray dogs in Latin America, with an estimated 15 to 18 million dogs living without, or abandoned by, human owners. These animals are a tragic sight, with the majority in extremely poor condition. But amidst this challenging reality, one woman in Puerto Angel, a village just 30 kilometres from Huatulco, has made it her life’s mission to alleviate their suffering.

Claudia Mamet, who works full-time as an English professor at a university in Puerto Angel, has always had a strong relationship with animals. During the COVID-19 pandemic when she needed to work from home, she decided to invest any extra free time she had in helping the street animals in her community. Her journey began with her first Mexican rescue during the pandemic, whom she named Bowie. Bowie’s story would ultimately serve as the inspiration for her to establish her non-profit organization, Dogs of Puerto Angel.

Bowie, like countless others, was born into life on the streets with his siblings and mother. Claudia had them all sterilized and treated for ticks and fleas. She fed them daily, but her living situation prevented her from giving them a home. Bowie vanished one day, only for Claudia to learn that a local farmer had taken him in as a guard dog. After two months, while Claudia was out feeding the street dogs, she stumbled upon Bowie, curled up on the side of the road. The farmer had subjected him to starvation and abuse, ultimately discarding him when he was no longer useful.

Claudia decided to move to a pet-friendly home so she could nurse Bowie back to health. Over the course of two months, he made a remarkable recovery, regaining his cheerful and playful demeanor. However, Bowie had the habit of chasing motorcycles and chickens, which in Mexico is a death sentence for a dog. Recognizing this, Claudia resolved to find Bowie a loving home abroad. With the help of a dear friend, she successfully found a forever home for him with a family in the Netherlands, where he is now thriving. Since then, Claudia’s home has become a sanctuary for sick or dying dogs and cats that need a safe place to recover.

The core mission of Dogs of Puerto Angel is to alleviate the suffering of street dogs and cats through a multi-faceted approach. This includes mass sterilization campaigns, educational initiatives within local schools, and the introduction of new local laws that combat animal abuse and neglect.

Claudia fundraises for these sterilization campaigns, partnering with veterinarians who charge her $300 pesos per animal (about $16.40 USD, $22.50 CAD at current exchange rates). Her objective is always ambitious, aiming to sterilize up to 200 dogs and cats over a single weekend—an astounding achievement.

As a teacher, Claudia believes in the power of education to promote responsible pet ownership and create a more compassionate and conscientious society. She takes every opportunity to visit local schools and conduct workshops that raise children’s awareness about the importance of caring for animals.

Claudia’s advocacy extends to pushing for new local laws that protect animals from abuse. On September 8, 2023, her tireless efforts paid off when the municipality of San Pedro Pochutla accepted her proposals and passed the first-ever local regulation on the Oaxaca coast dedicated to the protection, care, and management of companion animals in the region.

Claudia has dedicated her life to making a difference in the lives of Mexico’s animals. Even though it takes an emotional toll on her to see so much suffering, she perseveres because of the animals she can save. The ones like Bowie.

Dogs of Puerto Angel operates solely on donations, with 100% of donations going directly toward helping the dogs and cats in the region. Please consider donating to this inspiring organization and help spread the word about their invaluable work, which is making a positive impact on the lives of animals here. Dogs of Puerto Angel is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization in the United States, so Americans who donate can take a tax deduction.

To donate, send via PayPal to info@dogsofpuertoangel.org or go to their website (https://dogsofpuertoangel.org/), and click on the “Donate” button on the home page.

Saving Fish from Drowning

By Jane Bauer

‘Do not feed stray dogs and cats.’ I recently posted this opinion on a thread and received a snappy comment from someone who called me cold-hearted and that they couldn’t believe we had friends in common, as though who would be friends with someone who wouldn’t feed stray animals.

While I have seen our community grow, I have seen the stray animal population grow as well.

Different cultures have varied standards for how they regard different animals. In Ecuador eating guinea pigs is a norm, while in the US and Canada they are regarded as pets. While much of the world considers dogs and cats as pets rather than food, there are still many countries where they straddle into the food category. In the Philippines dog meat is the third most popularly consumed meat after pork and goat. In Vietnam fried cat meat and beer is a popular dish in Hanoi. When I was in Switzerland, I was surprised to find Canadian horse meat on offer at the local grocery store. In India cows are considered sacred and not-food, in fact, there are entire towns that are vegetarian. All this to say that there is a wide spectrum of cultural divide in how animals are treated.

While in North America (Canada, US, Mexico) cats and dogs are non-food, there are discrepancies with how they are cared for. For many, pets become a part of our family, they are treated like children that are helpless and require human care for all their needs. For others, they are nice to have, but they also serve the purpose of protection, status or keeping other unwanted critters away.

As the coast has become more developed there are some wonderful organizations that have done amazing work with spay and neuter clinics to help keep the dogs and cats from overpopulation. This is very important because overpopulation of stray animals can lead to pack mentality, they can carry disease and take a toll on the other wildlife.

Then there is the feeding. Each morning during the tourist season as I drive into work, I see a blond woman putting out bowls of food in front of her condo, a pack of dogs cluster around her and she looks very pleased with herself. However, for the rest of the year these dogs roam the neighborhood looking for humans to feed them and have been known to get aggressive.

I recently pulled up to Chahue beach for a sunrise meditation and witnessed a man surrounded by about thirty cats as he doled out kibble, the cats were practically clambering up his legs. While I am sure he believed he was doing a good deed, science would tell you he was not.

Feeding stray animals causes them to congregate in small areas where they are at greater risk from car traffic. If they are not fed by humans, they will expand their search for food and spread out. Cats or dogs hanging out in one spot means they will poop in one spot. If this is an area where people walk their domesticated pets or children play, they are at risk for a variety of zoonotic diseases. Stray cats that are fed by humans are more likely to breed. One study found that stray cats NOT fed by people have smaller litters and lower kitten survival rate. Long-term feeding makes animals dependent on humans and contributes to breeding.

“Sure, some animals do need our help as we often need theirs. But most of them are doing perfectly well on their own and our failure to recognize that not only undermines their natural instincts and intelligence, but can also send us down the rabbit hole of martyrdom and hero syndrome which we can all do without.” Rubaiya Ahmad, founder of Obhoyaronno – Bangladesh Animal Welfare Foundation which is leading the charge for animals in Bangladesh.

So why do people feed stray animals? Check your own bias and needs that are being filled by this act. I have sponsored two spay and neuter clinics in my village and have been asked by many people ‘but why do white people steal dogs.’ Seeing a dog off a leash does not mean it is homeless. If you want to help animals I suggest making a donation to an organization that does spay and neuter clinics.

And why dogs and cats? There are many animals that can use our help. Save marine life by not using sunscreen when you swim or go vegan. Save a chicken, and bring it home with you to Calgary. Studies have shown that chickens feel empathy, experience REM dreams, are behaviorally sophisticated, and demonstrate thinking skills on par with mammals and primates.

A good rule of thumb I use before feeding a stray animal is to ask myself whether I am willing to domesticate it all the way. This means to provide housing, regular food, spaying/neutering, and vaccinations over the course of its lifetime. If the answer is no, walk away.

The best way to help street animals is to financially support organizations that perform free spay and neuter clinics.

The Story of SusieJ – A Tiny Tigre de la Calle

By Deborah Van Hoewyk

Much to the displeasure of the two cats we bring from Maine, many a Mexican street cat has tried to enter – over the wall, through the gate – our house in Santa Cruz.

But one of those Maine cats is supremely ungracious to the street cats, given that she herself was born in Santa Cruz, apparently in a giant pothole up at the end of Calle Huautla.

A Determined Tiny Tigre

SusieJ arrived like others, hopping up from the sidewalk and through the ironwork gate into a planter. And there she stayed, peeking out from the plants at the front of the patio. A few days later, however, there was another, smaller face beside hers. Apparently SusieJ had gone back up to Calle Huautla and brought her kitten to live in the planter as well.

Of course, a few days after that, there was another small face at the front of the yard. And once, again, a few days after that – another small face. This third kitten looked nothing like SusieJ or the other two, and was a good six weeks younger. Then SusieJ though it would be better all if they moved into the house. First we just thought they’d left, until we discovered them curled up on the chairs shoved under the dining room table.

We fed them and “fixed” them – the kittens went off to live in Pluma Hidalgo. As were preparing to leave at the end of the season, SusieJ was adopted by a woman who lived in Hache Tres. All was quiet, stuff was getting sorted for packing, we were looking forward to the cool weather of Maine. At 11 pm, three days before we were to leave, hubby comes in carrying SusieJ. Although he believes cats do no such thing, SusieJ had found her way back from Hache Tres.

SusieJ was replaced by two new, younger bonded (and fixed) cats; SusieJ spends her summers in Maine and her winters in Mexico.

The Sad Short Lives of Street Cats

SusieJ lucked out. This is not the fate of the overwhelming majority of street cats in Mexico. They are run over by cars (atropellado), torn apart by dogs, starved, felled by disease, poisoned intentionally or accidentally, and have hard short lives – most last less than a year.

Street cats (gatos callejeros) live in concert with humans – they are not entirely feral. Most would make happy house cats if they got the chance. They are in the street because, historically, Mexico has not had a “pet culture” – cats and dogs have been seen as utilitarian. Cats do in the rats, mice, and other small vermin, while dogs guard property and people. It is thought spaying and castrating a dog or cat would prevent it from being fierce enough to do its job.

This is changing, however. According to U.S. animal behavior consultant Steve Dale from Chicago, Mexicans, “often influenced by European, American and Canadian pet ownership in the community,” are increasingly thinking of cats and dogs as pets, and with this change of mind, sterilization of pets and strays is increasing across Mexico.

The Solution? Sterilization

Sterilizing dogs and cats that roam and street animals is the only proven – and humane – way to control these populations. The Oaxacan coast has a strong contingent of spay-neuter organizations. The first volunteering we ever did in Huatulco was at one of the earliest clinics put on by Snipsisters, an organization formed by Canadians who had homes in Salchi, the next beach town after Cuatunalco. (Cuatunalco is west of Huatulco, before Pochutla/Puerto Ángel, and has hosted multiple Snipsister clinics.)

Snipsisters has encouraged other organizations to conduct spay-neuter campaigns. In Bahías de Huatulco, that organization is the Mexican nonprofit Palmas Unidas de Huatulco; Snipsisters has supported many of the Palmas Unidas clinics. There is a Snipsisters chapter in Puerto Escondido, where they also support TNR (Trap Neuter Release) Puerto Escondido. Altogether, Snipsisters has sterilized over 5,000 cats and dogs in coastal Oaxaca. The independent organization Terre Xtra serves Pochutla and Puerto Ángel, as well as lending a hand with Palmas Unidas and anywhere else they are needed.

Palmas Unidas de Huatulco conducts 6 – 9 free sterilization campaigns a year. Last month, Palmas Unidas held a clinic in Hache Tres in La Crucecita, scheduling 154 surgeries – working into the dark, the surgeons sterilized 159 animals. Those slots were all taken and people were being turned away – unacceptable to Palmas Unidas. Overnight emergency fundraising funded a second clinic with 60 more sterilizations, for a total 0f 219; funds raised will cover another clinic to be held early in the new year.

It costs approximately 300 pesos (currently about $15 USD, $20 CDN) to sterilize a cat or dog. Long-time Huatulco resident Fran McLaren is the driving force behind fundraising for Palmas Unidas; if you are interested in helping, contact her at franmclaren@gmail.com.

Travels with Pulque in the Time of COVID-19(Or, What Were We Thinking?)

By Julie Etra

Chapter 1

Love. COVID-19. Non-sequiturs? Like everyone last summer, we were stuck at home, as lovely as it is, but surrounded by fires and smoke for two months. My husband Larry (aka Lars) says “Let’s get a dog.” I am thinking, “My honey needs a dog. I am gone a lot and he needs the company, a buddy, a shep.” We had been dogless for almost five years, and he said it never occurred to him that we would not get another dog.

I remind him about our age (me 67, him 73) and dog longevity (estimate 16), but I am thinking “Good Idea! Responsibility! Exercise! LOVE!” Lars can sit on the deck with the dog, read a book with the dog, shoot squirrels, or watch the dog chase them and the rabbits. That was Friday, we started looking online and making a few calls as we had already decided we would get the same breed we’ve always had since we’d been together. This would be our fourth Australian cattle dog, aka Queensland heeler, and our last. Monday afternoon Larry looked at the pups and Tuesday he selected a 6-week-old male queenie from the back of a pick-up and, lo and behold, we were the parents of Pulque. That was June 23, we now had a handful of puppy love and lifestyle change in what we thought was mid-pandemic.

Why Pulque? Pulque is fermented agave juice, a pre-Hispanic Aztec (Mexica) beverage that preexisted the Spanish introduction of the distillation process. It is also the name of the ranch dog in the great book Como agua para chocolate by Laura Esquivel. He would be bilingual, we’ll take him to Mexico, he can practice there, immersion is a good thing.

Chapter 2

By July 16, in mid-summer heat typical of the Great Basin, I had ants in my pants (thankfully not sweeper or army ants found here on the Pacific coast of Oaxaca), and needed to see our friends on the Sonoma Coast of California. First road trip with the pup, now 11 weeks young, his maiden voyage in a puppy doggie halter. I had been working in Tahoe, about an hour drive from the office in Reno, so I was somewhat aware of the challenges of road travel during a pandemic, namely few pit stops or lunch options. We took our tow-behind trailer, to spare friends not particularly partial to dogs or rambunctious puppies, but also to have a toilet and fridge on the road; it is a long drive. This turned out to be a good plan. Rest areas were closed, the wildlife viewing areas were closed, the stop at the fruit stand proved fruitless, the taco joint in Dixon infeasible with the pup, even if it was open. Valley Ford, where we always stop for local cheese, great wine, and sometimes a sandwich prepared by the same older ladies, but nope, they were not there and had been replaced by creepy young men, but the temperature was 20 degrees cooler and the puppy was miraculously behaving and letting us know when he needed a pee stop (an on/off highway ramp).

We drove through dense summer fog to our destination just north of Fort Ross. It was great to see our friends, enjoy outdoor cocktails and snacks while socially distancing with mandated masks, facing the stunning Pacific from the deck of their former restaurant at Ocean Cove, the pup chewing our feet. The trip home was uneventful, with our typical stops closed and a pup we could not leave in the truck, regardless. He would bark, bark, bark if one of us was out of sight, a trait (often annoying) he maintains to this day.

Chapter 3

August 10. Still no facemask or social distancing mandates in the state of Nevada, still hot and smoky in Reno in the eastern valley of the Sierra Nevada (which means “snowy mountains” in Spanish, as Nevada was once part of Mexico), time to get out of town. Lamoille Canyon was the next COVID-19 Pulque trip, seven hours east across arid, flat, and dull I-80 with nary a tree in sight until we reached Elko and fueled up.

In spite of the pandemic, or because of limited entertainment and recreational opportunities, the campground was almost full. The remote canyon is awesome, formed by a retreating glacier and atypical for Nevada in terms of geology, morphology, vegetation, and wildlife. The energetic pup is hard to handle in a somewhat confined campground with leash regulations and lots of other dogs. He loves to play with and chew his retractable leash, he loves other dogs, he loves EVERYONE, another trait he has maintained (and a bit unusual for a heeler). We try to be patient and are entertained by his other antics and curiosity, bounding up the trail, pouncing through the vegetation, curiously cocking his cute puppy head from side to side at the creek, but again saying to ourselves, “What were we thinking? Are we too old for this?”

Chapter 4

Ocean Cove Campground, California, October 25. The pandemic was in what we thought was full throttle, little did we know at the time. Towing the trailer to the coast again, the pup is now 5½ months old. We have joined our friends again but this time at a private campground located above cliffs facing the ocean. What a gorgeous place. Masks are required at the little store, but folks are not social distancing, and there was the uninvited visit from a totally obnoxious cigarette-smoking COVID-19 denier getting way too close, with of course no mask. It was not easy to manage Pulque with so many other dogs, but he had started playing with the frisbee, which is great exercise and a great babysitter, us tossing it to him on the sandy bluffs in between the rock outcrops.

Chapter 5

At last, dear reader, the trip to Huatulco. After some debate, we decided to return to our house here where we usually spend about five months. We were nervous not so much about catching the virus in Mexico as we were about catching it en route, and if we did come down with it in Mexico, we would have very limited options for care. But we did not want to remain in the US, where we presumed it would get much worse, as proper health protocols had become volatile political statements and people were headed inside for the winter.

And so, we began to plan. Not so easy! And of course, it became almost exponentially more complicated with the dog. American Airlines would no longer take dogs, Aero Mexico had too many stops and layovers, including Mexico City. After consulting a few friends and our neighbors here in Huatulco we decided to drive a one-way rental to the border, a two-day trip, and fly directly from Tijuana to Huatulco on Volaris. Yes, they would take the pooch, with super-specific requirements for the paperwork, and kennel. It was also interesting that the cost for the pooch was half that of a U.S. carrier. We also thought that being in country, customs would be easier.

We left around 11:00 on November 13, having picked up the sanitized rental at the empty airport desk and upgrading to an SUV. We took off in the first winter storm of the season. As we left a full rainbow appeared, I am thinking this is a good omen, but driving into an 80-mph headwind, with the pooch perched in between the seats for a good view, we passed four wrecked tractor trailers and I am reconsidering the rainbow and what may lie ahead along the drive to San Diego. Reno to Lone Pine, once we were out of the storm, along the steep and dramatic eastern Sierra Nevada is a stunning drive and we have a styrofoam cooler loaded with snacks and libations, and four home-cooked meals for Pulque. One night in Lone Pine, take out dinner, then back on the road south.

We made it to the border at Chula Vista, staying in the sanitized, restricted, and sort of pet-friendly hotel closest to the airport (an additional unadvertised and non-refundable $150.00 for our precious puppy). San Diego County was now red, with no inside dining, so we ordered delivery and watched CNN and the not-happening transition to the new administration. This was really hard on the puppy. ACK. But so good so far.

The following morning, after dropping the car off, we did a pre-check-in at Volaris on the U.S. side, where they scrutinized the pooch’s paper work. We were fortunate to grab two baggage carts as we had the wheel-less kennel, two big rollers, and our laptop rollers. We figured that once we were on the Mexican side we might be able to find porters (they have their own union). With our Cross Border Xpress passes, we crossed the pedestrian walkway and went through security (and customs, as it were) for the first time and bingo we were in the chaotic and surprisingly full Tijuana airport where we were immediately told to put the dog in the kennel. People were masked but not socially distancing and there was one helluva long line! Barkie, barkie, bark, bark, bark, even with a half a doggie downer. We finally made it to the special needs counter, and with a knot in my stomach I watched the Volaris rep read through our paperwork, not knowing whether we would pass, or what to expect. BARK, BARK, BARK, BARK. Another half a doggie downer, the paperwork seemed to be in order, but wait! The kennel does not meet their specs, it is too big. Can’t be, we mutter to ourselves, after having bought the last suitable but wheel-less kennel in Reno, but this is resolved with an additional too-big-kennel fee, and off goes our six-month old pup (not the required eight, ahem) down the conveyor belt, bark, bark, barking, the knot still there.

We go through security again, and board. The flight is crowded, and has, typical for Volaris, little leg room. Everyone is wearing cubrebocas. The passengers are mostly nationals, maybe a few Americans as we think we hear a little English. Four long hours later we land in Huatulco, get our luggage, here comes the bark, bark, barkie on the conveyor belt, and our friend Larry is there to help us disassemble the kennel and take us home. The pandemic had not even peaked yet in the U.S., we did not know precisely what to expect in Mexico, but this is what we were thinking: “Doggie, Huatulco, home, at least for now.”