They are everywhere — tall dogs, short dogs, big dogs, small dogs, black, white, brown, red, yellow and brindle dogs.
There are smelly hippy, just-passin’-thru dogs (and I’m not saying from where the odor is emanating — human, or canine, or perhaps the sweatstained, refrigerator-sized backpack).
There are gigantic purebred poodles, as regal-looking as their owners.
And there are a whole lot of Labs, shepherds, terriers, hounds and who-knows-whats in between.
Santa Fe calls itself “the city different,” for numerous reasons, but perhaps nowhere is its diversity more noticeable than in its dogs.
You see dogs on street corners. You see them in Santa Fe Plaza, the town’s main gathering place. You see them in outdoor restaurants, poking their heads out of passing cars and, by the dozens, at Frank S. Ortiz Dog Park — an expansive swath of high desert, dotted with cholla and juniper (provided by nature), and dog bowls, plastic chairs and poop bags (provided by its users).
Despite its lack of frills, Frank S. Ortiz Dog Park — it’s named after a one-time mayor — has arroyos and hills, miles of paths, and commanding views of the town. (By virtue of its size alone, it appears destined to make our top 10 dog park list.) Yes, dogs are one thing you can’t avoid in Santa Fe.
Dogs and art.
Art, too, is everywhere — street corner stands,murals, ritzy galleries, rustic studios. The only thing there may be more of than dogs in Santa Fe is artists, many of whom draw their inspiration from the scenic beauty around them.
So, actually there are three things you can’t avoid in Santa Fe — dogs, art and nature’s beauty. It — along with a climate sent from heaven — make it a highly liveable, and visitable, city. Beauty can be found in nearly every direction you look, from the Jemez Mountains to the west to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, rising high to the southeast.
Speaking of rising high, there are actually four things you can’t avoid in Santa Fe — dogs, art, nature’s beauty and high prices. There’s no escaping high prices. Sooner or later, they will get you — or perhaps even stress you out.
If so, you can always visit a spa, because actually there are five things you can’t avoid in Santa Fe — dogs, art, nature’s beauty, high prices and spas. In town, on the edges of town, up in the mountains, there is an abundance of places to get wrapped, scrubbed, rubbed, boiled and oiled. I’m not sure who goes to all the spas, probably the same people that buy all the art and eat the high priced restaurant meals — namely tourists.
So that makes six things you can’t avoid in Santa Fe, if you count the tourists, who stay in hotels that, like all other structures in town, are made of adobe, which is the seventh thing you can’t avoid in Santa Fe — adobe. I’ve yet to see a house exterior of wood, brick or — heaven forbid — vinyl siding.
On top of those seven things, there are plenty of other things that can be found in abundance in Santa Fe– sunsets, rainbows, good food, opera, legends, history, crafts, and, my personal favorite, clouds.
Here’s my theory on the clouds, and why cooling afternoon showers are fairly common here. Clouds come in from the mountains, usually — like tourists — in a group. The clouds look down and like what they see — harmony, art, spirituality, pleasing terrain, disposable income, seekers, healers and art appreciators. And, being an art form themselves, the clouds decide to stay around a while — so that they may both appreciate and be appreciated.
In my five days here, I’ve noticed that, unlike clouds in most places, neither the big fluffy ones or the wispy flat ones — to use the scientific terms — seem to be moving, and, if they are, it’s imperceptibly slow. Instead, they seem to be lingering, hanging out, enjoying the view. Meantime, new clouds come in, and they decide to linger, too. And so on and so on, until there are so many clouds, elbowing each other for space in the formerly big blue sky, that they become entangled, much like the traffic downtown.
As a result of all that brushing up against each other, and moving into each others’ space, meteorological things begin to take place, and — not to get too technical — rain and wind result.
Sometimes, after that, you get rainbows. Sometimes, you don’t. That’s life, in Santa Fe.
(To read all of “Dog’s Country,” the continuing story of one man and one dog spending six months criss-crossing America, click here.)
Posted by John Woestendiek July 12th, 2010 under Muttsblog.
Tags: ace does america, adobe, animals, art, artists, beauty, clouds, dog parks, dog's country, dogs, dogscountry, frank s. ortiz dog park, high prices, mountains, nature, new mexico, ohmidog!, pets, rainbows, road trip, santa fe, seven things you can't avoid in santa fe, spas, sunsets, tourists, traveling with pets
Let me apologize for this one in advance.
Normally, we try to avoid being sophomoric, but I’ve spent nearly a week in Texas, home of George Bush, and after meeting so many good old boys and traveling so many miles through its parched flatness, the mind plays tricks on a man. One can get inordinately excited by the slightest change in terrain
That said, here’s a butte:
And here’s a beaut:
Posted by John Woestendiek June 17th, 2010 under Muttsblog.
Tags: ace does america, beaut, breast, breasts, butte, dog's country, dogs, dogscountry, geology, mountains, road trip, texas, travel, traveling with dog
On a trip this week to do some book research, I stopped for a visit at the Avery County Humane Society, up in the mountains of western North Carolina, and came across a pup who looked like a miniature version of my dog, Ace.
Ace, as you regulars know, is 130 pounds, a chow-Rottweiler mix (according to a DNA test) who’s so tall I can rest my hand on his back when we go for a walk.
Peanut, one of about 40 dogs at the shelter, was a mini-Ace — same face, same coat, same coloring, same floppy ears, same soulful eyes — but on bassett hound legs.
Seven months old, he was brought into the shelter because his owners lost their home to foreclosure, and had to move in with the in-laws.
The staff at the shelter was kind enough to let me play with him, and snap a few pictures.
The shelter was the cleanest I’ve ever seen — as pristine as the mountains in which it is nestled, and while the director wasn’t there, the youthful staff (none appeared to be over 21) seemed to have things well in hand.
Tempted I was to bring Ace home a little brother, reason won out (we’ve still got that newly arrived cat, after all) and I left Peanut behind, knowing he’s in good hands and hoping he’ll find a good home.