But we had it fixed...

Right?

Just because I’ve had a dog since I was 5 years old doesn’t mean I know anything.

I’ve never had more than two dogs at once and I’ve found that a dog pack, much like a rat king can be its own entity. Moving as one. Group think, like in politics, is hardly ever a good idea. Something that one dog barks at wouldn’t maybe be interesting to another given an option but if one fires off, the group is called to action to at least investigate.

What is that? a squirrel, bird, cat on wall, leaf blowing across yard, person walking home from work that walks this way 4 times a day for the last 6 months, rat terriers from other neighbor and oh boy, Mr. Sausage. A bold and swaggering charcoal colored, 3inch tall log of a lhasa/pug/pom/pit who is fearless, hated and knows you’re locked in that gate.

So confident is Mr. Sausage that he’ll come inches away from said gate and pee directly into your barking hysterical face.

If only one dog is on the patio (the place to be like a second floor balcony looking over a Mardi Gras parade) Mr. Sausage isn’t a thing. If the group is in the back yard (mostly ignored because it’s walled and there’s nothing to bark at) and a WOOF shot is fired, the entire group moves to the front patio and explodes. I’ve started to close the door until after 8am when Sausage passes. Problem solved.

What I don’t know how to solve is La Temporada, The Season. It’s Spring-ish here and everyone is out of their ever lovin’ hormonal minds even though EVERY dog in my group and even those in my circle on the street is—SPAYED and NEUTERED.

No matter. Everyone is humping. Mostly the females with females, the males are dismissed sharply if they attempt to join, there is still the blood spotting from one of the girls, Cookie I think…and it’s a big hot disgusting Rumspringa Spring Break in Cancun twerking nightmare. I change sheets several times a week, mop twice daily, yell OUTTTTT! more than ever.

It’s heat season. Spayed or not. Clean hysterectomy or not (one vet that I used 2 years ago takes the uterus and leaves the ovaries…why?????) but everyone is feeling it. Some are humping the heads of others and many are humping the air. It is feral and confusing.

The oldest male, Uncle Dusty gave Miss Suzy a gentle mount and she (slightly off in her Labrador cabeza) ran like the bull sized mountain she is and pulled him all over the yard attached, by wiener, on his back. Oh the howls.

There are wild packs of dogs chasing females and fighting with each other over nothing, coyotes coming down from the cerros/hills and mating with dogs and creating the kind of strains that 23andme Doggy DNA will deem “village dogs”. You just have to wait until it’s over.

The vet that comes to town says that it’s a collective Season like deer or wild boar not just a particular female’s cycle. Like a giant sorority house when everyone synchs up with everyone and tampons are passed out like party favors. It’s just one more thing I cannot control and have to roll with.

My good boy Rocky ignored me for a good 30 minutes after gate crashing yesterday running me all over town and scaring a few kids for fun. Old lady Brady is even crankier and stealing food out of the fridge and herding everyone into a corner for being in her kitchen in a sort of menopausal rage. It’s just me and that little pup Tiny in the corner wide eyed at everyone and staying out of the way because we are NOT part of this. I’m trying not to judge any of them during this time, it’s a weird time. A weirder than usual life in pueblo Mexico time, to be clear. And Semana Santa has only just begun.