I Finally Obtain Cheddar Cheese in Mexico City; Charlie Spazzes

A few weeks ago, I went to Costco with friend and fellow blogger Julie. I had heard the rumors that Costco sells certain food items largely unattainable in Mexico City, chief among them extra-sharp cheddar cheese. I have made it no secret that I get a little woozy in the presence of good cheddar, and since I am uber tired of Mexican cheeses (they are fairly bland), I could resist no longer. I bought a giant block of Vermont’s finest, AKA Cabot’s Vintage Choice white cheddar.

["Vintage Choice rests in our cellars until it reaches perfect maturity. It boasts a rich, full-bodied, extra-sharp flavor that is wonderfully delicious. Complex in taste and texture, opulent and full of nuances. Its powerful intensity lingers like a sweet memory." Editor's Note: Indeed.]

Everyday since then, I’ve sliced a little bit off and savored it. When done, I carefully place Saran wrap around the block and place it lovingly back in the fridge. “Tomorrow, we meet again,” I whisper to it. “Tenemos una cita, amorcito.“

Tonight, I decided to splurge and have a white wine (a Portugese vinho verde — another thing Julie introduced me, to, and tengo un mil gracias por eso)  and cheddar cheese dinner.

Normally, when Charlie is in the presence of anything that tastes even a smidge better than his normal kibble, he begins an elaborate begging dance to get a scrap. But if his humans ignore him, he will give up, eventually.

But not tonight. I had thoughtlessly left behind a tiny piece of cheddar and was settling into read a friend’s short story for my writing workshop. He kept bumping into me as I tried to read. WTF? Oh, the cheese, I realized.

He spent a very long time calculating the distance between the sofa and the tiny bit of cheese.

"I eat crappy kibble all day. Please, woman."

"SIGH. Just give me the fucking cheese already."

Finally, I relented and handed it to him.

He gobbled it up and then jumped off the couch and preceded to circle the coffee table.

"Just making sure it's all gone."

Later, I spotted him by the doorway, licking and sniffing his paws (he often holds treats with his paws before eating them).

Right now I think he’s retired to the bedroom, and will soon fall asleep, dreaming of cheddar.

That’s Why I Was Freezing Last Night

I woke up at one point last night, thinking “hmm, it’s a bit chilly, even though I’m under the covers.”

I should have known someone had stolen the top blanket.

Comfy, Charlie?

When I asked him about this act of theft, this was his only reply.

How to Help Mexico City’s Long-Suffering Street Dogs

Mexico, most of the time, is not a welcoming place for dogs. Strays roam the streets of every city, often looking quite miserable. How to reduce the stray population is a long-standing issue for Mexico, and not one with an easy answer, as much of the human population is also suffering from over-population (poor women with way too many kids). Meaning, taking proper care of nearby stray dogs is a very low priority when you can’t feed your children, either.

It is one of the things I like dislike most about Mexico, as I have always been someone who loves animals and feels like humans have a responsibility to treat all living creatures ethically. I grew up thinking we don’t do enough in the U.S., then I moved here and realize how bad it can truly be.

But, thankfully, there are some organizations fighting the good fight, and one in particular I feel quite confident in giving my money to: Adopta Un Amigo. (It’s a partially bilingual site, they also help cats, and great news: They accept PayPal donations.)

My friends Jonathan and Alejandra adopted their dog, Jelly, from Adopta Un Amigo. Jelly started her life on the street, but is now happy and healthy:

When Charlie Has Fun, Everyone Has Fun

This past weekend we stayed in lovely Malinalco, Mexico, with our in-laws and their friends, renting a house, hanging out in hammocks, eating fresh Mexican produce, playing dominoes and visiting the town (we recommend Las Placeres restaurant).

Charlie came along, too, and he worked on getting in touch with his inner wolf.

He spent a significant portion of the weekend hidden in the garden.

"Are you calling my name, again? Can't you see that I'm just fine???"

Of course, though, he can't resist the attention of his humans.

Can You Help Him Find Love?

Even with the maldito typo, this one stopped me in my tracks. “Omg so cute,” I said out loud while walking my even cuter version.

“I’m looking for a girlfriend.”

Spotted today in Parque Mexico, a park known for its purebred dog populations, including Shih-Tzus. I haven’t yet met a shit-zu.

6 Reasons to House-Sit Nancy and Jeremy’s House

1. The view from the lounge chair

2. The vitamin D (obtained while in the lounge chair)

3. Dog can vacation with you (while you’re in lounge chair)

4. The jacaranda trees

5. The grill

6. And last but not least. The butterflies:

Companions to None: Film Explores Street Dogs in Mexico

Flickr Photo by Pedro Rueda

If there are two things I love, it’s film documentaries and dogs. But dog documentary Companions to None is one of those films I probably shouldn’t watch because I’ll just cry the entire time.

It’s about the overwhelming street dog population in Mexico (I highly recommend Amores Perros – or Love’s a Bitch in English, for a fictionalized-but-apt examination of Mexico’s bizarre relationship with dogs.)

My neighborhood, as I’ve explained before, is an odd microcosm of this societal ill. There’s people like me, walking our fancy, neutered, well-loved dogs in beautiful Parque Mexico. Never far away, though, are street dogs. Sad street dogs with open wounds, limps and desperately sweet souls. And because there is no consistent sterilization program for street dogs, these dogs keep reproducing, in the shadows, ignored by most. Thankfully, a few kind people in the neighborhood do try to take care of these dogs, such as putting out mats for them, feeding them, and taking them to the vet/groomer’s if they need help. More than once a street dog has followed me home, hoping for a hand-out. Of course I oblige when this happens.

Go to more rural parts of Mexico and profound poverty and cultural norms exacerbate the problem. People barely have enough money to feed themselves (and their large families — contraception for humans is not a wildly popular idea, either), so taking proper care of street dogs is low on the list of priorities.

Flickr Photo by patotenere

As well, a persistent belief that neutering male dogs will make them “gay” keeps sterilization programs from taking hold. One woman in the film trailer credits the Catholic Church with propagating this belief, and I’m not surprised. Homophobia knows no bounds, not even when it comes to pets.

As the LA Times explains, the film may not be widely seen. (I want to give a shout-out right now to the Times for having excellent coverage of Latin America at a time when most news divisions are cutting staff.)

“Problems securing a wide distribution for the film may obstruct the diffusion of what is an important message. Buchanan said American networks such as Animal Planet, Discovery and HBO passed on broadcasting the documentary and that a deal with TV Azteca –- one of Mexico’s two main commercial broadcasters –- fell through.”

I do hope the film gains momentum, or at least the important message it carries. Sterilizing dogs is far more humane than letting them over-populate, starve on the street, and create more starving puppies. And the more your sterilize, the smaller the problem gets with every passing generation.

I Made My First Neighborhood Enemy

Yesterday morning I took Charlie out for a walk, per my usual routine first-thang en la manana. We were walking down Calle Amsterdam, a lovely leafy street with a special walking path just for pedestrians.

A woman approached, walking in my direction with a German Shepherd off its leash. Before I had much time to react, the dog lunged at Charlie and all I heard was vicious growling sounds. Charlie tried to run away, and I got tangled up in the middle of the leash. I was scared, and screamed “Jesus Christ!”

The woman — instead of instantly grabbing her dog’s collar and pulling him off of Charlie — responded, ever-so-flippantly with “Oh, he’s just playing” in English. By this time I had gotten Charlie a few feet away from the dog. But since the woman hadn’t bothered to leash her dog, he lunged again at Charlie. Again I was standing in a tornado of angry teeth and fur. I lost it.

“Can’t you use a leash?” I shouted as loudly as I could. Then, not sure if she understood, I said “LADY: Use a leash. Por favor, use un CORREO!“

“My dog is not aggressive,” she told me in English.

I was shocked — what?? are you kidding me?? — but instead of asking how the attacking was “not aggressive,” I said back to her “well, mine IS which is why he’s on a leash, to protect us.” (This is true.)

Her response?

“No, no no. Dogs are meant to be free!” She shouted it as if high on the dander of her damn dog. “FREE!!” She lifted her hands to the sky, perhaps to puppy heaven, where leashes don’t exist. “FREE” she repeated a third time, walking away with her unleashed dog, as I tried to get a word in.

The best I could up with to battle her mantra? (I am miserable at coming up with powerful-and-irrefutable statements in the middle of a stressful situation.)

“Then why do leashes exist???”

Suffice it to say, after the altercation ended, my heart was racing, I was sweating, and I seriously was harboring violent thoughts to strangle her by her sweatshirt cords. Per my usual reaction during a confrontation, I started crying before I even made it home. Then I brooded for hours. And now I’m writing this post for catharsis.

Sadly, because she owns a dog and lives near me, the chances I will see her again are about 99%, meaning I have my first neighborhood enemy, and Charlie has his. (Who the rest of the day almost seemed to feel bad about what happened — he sat curled up next to me all day.)

She is just one of many people in this neighborhood who refuse to leash their dogs, but she’s the first one to be an unapologetic (perhaps delusional) jerk about it.

(And for all of you out there walking your dog in Condesa, watch out for a short, thin woman with dark hair walking a German Shepherd that’s about 8 months old. She and her dog are totally loca.)

Oh, I Love Shopping in Mexico: Recent Bargain Aquisitions

It’s been awhile since I posted the cool stuff I buy in Mexico. Here ya go, with a noticeable “Dia de los Muertos” theme to it…

This is a reproduction of a Mexican Colima dog. The real ones are housed only in museums and by savvy collectors. I found this guy in Queretaro, Mexico. He cost around $7 bucks, I think. He’s holding an ear of corn in his mouth – ’cause they like their corn down here, you know?

This is a hand-blown glass heart. I bought it in Tlaxcala, Mexico. It’s from the state of Jalisco. It cost $120 pesos, or about $10.50 in U.S. dollars. I still haven’t figured out where (or how) to hang it, but I know I want the light to hit it — it really sparkles beautifully. In Tlaxcala, the store that sells these created an entire tree out of these, which I couldn’t take my eyes off of.

This is a skeleton driving a donkey cart that’s carrying a coffin. It cost about a dollar. From Toluca.

The Virgin de Guadalupe with tons of glitter surrounding her. Also about a dollar and from Toluca.

I keep this little lady under my computer monitor to remind myself to not spend too much time at the computer. To see a squirrel/veterinarian version of this, go here. She was cheap ($1.50) and from Toluca.

I found this glass candle votive at a little flea sale at the beauty salon right by my apartment. I now own about 5 pieces of blue glass, and I plan to keep collecting more. This cost $1 as well.

A Quick Pick-Me-Up

The Dog Treat that Must Be Endlessly Coveted

Like most dogs, Charlie likes treats. I try to keep a steady supply on hand, and I give him one when I’m feeling guilty for not giving him much attention, or if I’m leaving the house, so he associates “Joy gone” with “good treat.”

A few days ago, I bought a new brand. Each treat looks like a fake sliced bone, with red “marrow” in it. They’re pretty big for a Charlie-sized dog. (Off topic, but: Isn’t it silly how dog treats are designed with humans in mind? Who cares if they’re shaped like a fake bone? Not Charlie, that’s for sure. As long as it tastes good and smells better.)

Anyhoodles, Charlie has responded in a characteristically quirky way to this treat — I’m not sure what’s going on in his little dog brain (Brendan would say: not much). What happened this morning is the typical behavior he displays when given one of these new treats:

I took him for a walk this morning around 8 a.m. About an hour later, needing to buckle down and do some serious editing, I went into the kitchen and handed him a treat. Then around 2:30 in the afternoon, in time for his normal afternoon walk, I called “Charlie….go outside?” He didn’t come running like normal, when he’s usually desperate to go outside.

I kept calling his name, eventually heading back to our bedroom where his dog bed is. There he was, hovering, closely guarding something. I picked up his dog bed blanket, and yep, the treat rolled out.

He didn’t give me a second to contemplate things — he grabbed it (with his mouth) and ran out of the room. I followed him, and kept asking “go outside?” After all, I was holding his leash and the house keys and was damn-well ready to go outside myself, too.

He’d walk into one room, then another, making pained grunting noises the entire time, treat in mouth. Finally he went back to his dog bed, crawled in it, and apparently decided that, after 6 hours of coveting the treat, he’d better eat it. So he ate it.

Dog-people: Any idea what this is about? Is this like when a dog buries a bone? Do they guard it constantly after that? Even sacrificing trips outside? Is this something single dogs do since they don’t have to worry about another dog stealing it?

(He’s also been dreaming very vividly lately — is anything funnier than a Shih Tzu barking in his sleep?)

The Fuzzbucket Is Back

One of the hardest aspects of living abroad is what to do with our much beloved dog, Charlie. Back when we lived in NYC, we traveled all over the damn place guilt-free, either with Charlie in tow, or we dropped him off at our friend Dora’s house.

But, in Mexico, it’s not easy transporting him back and forth to the U.S. for just a week’s long trip, so we take him to Hacienda Campus Canino, a “pet resort” about an hour outside of Mexico City. (Actually, he gets picked up and dropped off, which is fantastic).

Today was his third time returning from Campus Canino, and I think he’s getting used to it. Unlike the previous two times, he seemed happy and normal and not totally racked with anxiety:

Photo: Carlito en el Parque

Charlie Takes the Pet Intelligence Test, Earns a D+

I couldn’t resist clicking on this headline from Prevention.com: Is Your Pet Smarter than a 5th Grader?

The article explains the various ways animals are smarter than they seem, especially dogs. At the bottom it has several tests you can administer:

“With your dog watching, put a treat under a can; then see how long it takes for her to retrieve it. Less than 15 seconds is very good.”

I used a coffee filter instead of cans — hey, he’s a little dog! Charlie took 45 seconds, but I was relieved that he at least did retrieve it.

“Set up three cans, and place a treat under one while your pet watches. Remove him from the room for a couple minutes and then let him back in. Does he run straight to the cans? Does he find the right one?”

I placed the treat in the filter on the far left (the one behind Charlie’s tail in the photo) and made him wait in our bedroom. Two minutes later, yes, he ran straight to the cans, but then he noticed I had the camera. He started posing:

What does this mean? The test says nothing about this happening!?! About 30 seconds later, he got bored with me and the camera and decided to sit, facing away from the potential treat — agh!

Curiously, once I got irritated and ignored him and started typing this blog post, I heard a ruffling sound. Found — and he went to the right one (although he did squash the first one).

Good boy, you’re not totally stupid — you’re just vain!

“How many commands, hand signals, and noises does your pet respond to? More than 200 means you have a superpet.”

We know for sure he knows “sit”, “gimme 5,” “down” (although this sometimes turns into a convoluted “sit”), “come here”, and he comes when I say “wanna treat?” and “wanna go for a walk?” He sometimes responds to “gimme kisses.” So 6.5 out of 200 isn’t bad, right?

OK, so I just checked — it’s been 5 minutes and what is Charlie up to now?

He left no stone unturned, so to speak. This has to be a good sign, right?

Back by Popular Demand: More Photos of the Mexican Home Office

“Blog experts” like to tell you to never focus on the mundane details of your life, but whenever I do, I somehow get demands for more details. A few weeks ago, I wrote about my new home office — how I moved it out of a dark, spare bedroom and into our spectacularly sunny, happy dining room.

When I let it be known that we did a little house painting, I got requests for more photos of said “renovation.” I have always wanted a red room — always — and I finally got my wish granted:

(The chair behind my desk is holding a space heater — it’s frigging cold in Mexico City in January!)

Have I mentioned the nice view of Parque Mexico?

And because I haven’t posted a photo of my favorite perrito in a while (yes, he now prefers to wear Mexican blankets, and no, how dare you accuse me of staging this photo to make it look more Mexican!):