After having lived here for more than two years now, I’ve learned quite a bit on just how Chile works. And I’ve also learned to accept –on most days– that there are some things I will never understand.

One realization that recently hit me is that Chile is not full of “Street Dogs,” as I have so many times professed, rather what I’m dubbing to be: “Neighborhood Dogs.” These guys make a home within so many blocks and all those living or working in that area become their caretakers.

While they poop on our sidewalks and often wake us up in a ruckus of barking and nonsense, we love them. Nothing demonstrates this more than the fact that the majority are plenty filled out and that come winter, they’re all of the sudden sporting a snazzy sweater.

There’s the shepard-mutt on Alameda with Mac-Iver who every single morning relentlessly, tirelessly launches an attack on eight lanes of traffic. There’s the big, who-knows-what fellow on Miraflores who is in the habit of napping in the middle of the sidewalk during peak foot-traffic hours. I could keep going..

And though none are as faithful as my beloved Whale Dog, the Bellas Artes/Santa Lucia neighborhood dogs have my heart. It is a Chilean curiosity that I love.