A Visit from the Village Veterinarian

Life in our small village near Oaxaca has its rhythms, and our two dogs, MaliNalli and Avion, are very much a part of that. MaliNalli, our sleek xoloitzquintle, is ever the graceful companion, while Avion, our sweet rescue from the streets, still carries a bit of his past with him. It took a long time for Avion to settle in—over a year of patience and reassurance before he began to trust us. Even now, he can be suspicious, but he’s protective of us and his buddy MaliNalli.

 

A few days ago, we noticed something off with Avion. He seemed to be in pain, limping and showing signs of abrasions on his underside. It looked like he might have gotten into a scuffle. By the next morning, his pain had worsened, and we knew we had to do something. We called the village veterinarian for the first time.

In the afternoon, a fine old gentleman, Dr. Mario Ruiz, arrived on his motorcycle, making his rounds. He was calm, professional, and kind. After examining Avion, he confirmed that the wounds were likely from a fight and that infection had set in. With a steady hand, he administered two injections and applied a healing powder to Avion’s belly. The cost for his services was incredibly reasonable—600 pesos (around 31 USD). He promised to return the next day, Sunday, for another injection, instructing us to give Avion a bath before his arrival.

In our quiet corner of the world, it’s reassuring to know we have such care close by, and we’re grateful for the tenderness shown to our beloved Avion. This morning we bathed him. I had to drag him into the bathroom. With tail between his legs, he whimpered and was rigid with fear, but when the warm water ran over him he relaxed. We were able to get him washed. 

He’s recovering now, resting a bit more. Hopefully, slowly regaining his strength. 

Small moments like these remind us of the community we’ve built here—both human and animal—and how we all look after one another in this shared life.

She Is Gone

Once in a while I pull out the leash to walk our two dogs to neighboring fields in the afternoon. They love it. When Mali Nalli, our Xoloitzcuintle, hears the word “walk” and sees the leash she goes frantic with happiness, jumping in the air with all four feet off the ground. Avión, our adopted stray boy gets excited too, whimpering in delight, then running to the front gate.

There are a couple dog packs nearby, so I have to guard MaliNalli until we are in the clear, then I can take the leash off. She loves to playfully attack Avión as we walk.

Mali Nalli

Recently, I walked with the dogs at close to 5 PM to the usual place⏤a corn field that is now just cut dried stalks and dry earth. We have to follow a couple dirt roads to get there. I turned into the field and decided to go left instead of the usual right in order to explore a different view. After maybe 100 feet, I turned to see Avión by my side, but Mali Nalli was nowhere to be seen. I whistled, which is her cue to come to me. Nothing. Concerned, I went to the road thinking she had found something interesting that had been thrown there. I whistled loudly but no response. 

Soon I became rather frightened as my mind began running with various possibilities⏤none of them good. My biggest fear was she had been stolen by somebody who saw her. She is beautiful, in good shape and her breed is famous in Mexico. Stuff like that happens. In the news lately has been the disappearance of a beautiful young woman in training to be a doctor who left work at a local hospital one night and has been missing ever since.

I walked around whistling, with heart pounding as I thought about telling Amy who was busy making dinner at home. She would have a heart attack I thought. 

I reluctantly started back to the house, Avión beside me. “Where is she?” I said, hoping he would lead me to her. He stayed by my side. At a nearby home I walked into the property looking. Several young men were outside working. I asked in my broken Spanish, saying “Where is my little dog? She is gone.” They had not seen her. I harbored faint suspicions, as I turned to go home. 

Avión and I reached our locked gate. As I opened it, Mali Nalli began barking from inside the house! She appeared at the window, barking excitedly. I almost cried with relief. WTF? I thought. Inside, Amy said, “She came charging in without you. I was worried.” 

I said, “I thought something bad happened. She disappeared. I went calling her but she was nowhere to be found. I thought she had been stolen.”  

Both of us stood there, flabbergasted until I looked at the clock and saw it was just past 5. Amy had been home making dinner, and 5 PM is when the dogs are fed each day.

“She came home for dinner!” I said.

“How did she get in past the locked gate?” Amy asked.

We both laughed with relief, realizing what most likely had happened and that we had our family together safe and sound.

Sojourn to the Sea

For the first time since we moved to Mexico almost three years ago my daughter Sarah is visiting us. Our house has plenty of room and we are happy to be together. Yet we are somewhat removed from cultural activities since the location is in a pueblo outside of Oaxaca. Sarah asked about going to the ocean, so we decided to make the seven hour drive through the Sierra Madre Mountains to the Pacific. Amy and I had visited Mazunte about 2 years ago and liked it. It has an international reputation as a hip and laid back spot along the coast. Young people especially like it as a counter culture place to forget the world and re-center in harmony with nature. 

To drive from Oaxaca with our puppy MaliNalli, we followed an infamously winding road through mountains that makes some sick to their stomachs. The dog threw up! Near the coast, earth gave way to sand. Our fabulous hotel, Carpe Diem, took us in with open arms and made us feel at home on a tree laden hillside above the ocean. Sarah participated in yoga sessions on the roof veranda with sparkling and astonishing views.

Mazunte beach is not for swimming because the ocean is too strong with powerful waves hitting the steep shoreline. We drove 7 minutes to nearby San Augustinillo where swimming is perfect. Amy sat contentedly by a table under a big beach umbrella. Sarah and I dove in and played in the surf. MaliNalli streaked around with joy but was afraid of the water. She dug holes in the sand . . . just like any child.

Yoga by the sea

An Unexpected Place

Final Voyage, oil on linen, 30 x 48 inches

My most recent painting had a surprising genesis. Amy and I were at a special museum exhibit in Oaxaca featuring art celebrating Xoloitzcuintle dogs. We own one. “Xoloitzcuintles are national treasures in Mexico, with a history that goes back at least 3,000 years. Mentions of these “strange hairless dogs” appear in the journals of Cortez and other European explorers. Ancient Aztecs named the breed for their dog-headed god Xolotl. Xolos were considered sacred by the Aztecs and often were sacrificed and buried alongside their owners to serve as protective guides to the next world. In modern times, Xolos are dedicated watchdogs and companions.” _AKC.org.
At one time Xolos were almost extinct, now resurrected they are celebrated. Ancestors of today’s Mexicans held the dog in high regard and today it is the dog most representative of Mexico.

In art, “happy accidents” are gifts. Like a lightning bolt, pure inspiration suddenly comes from an unexpected place. Many times I have labored on art with good intentions only to find I don’t like the outcome. Perhaps it lacks spontaneity, freshness . . . and so I strike out what I have done. Then something new appears in that destruction. A new direction and vision occurs.

At the exhibition, among the paintings, drawings and sculptures, I found myself in front of a glass case. Inside, a bronze sculpture of a boat, holding only an erect Xolo at the bow, showing the way. That moment I got an idea for a painting. I could make another of my “Memento Mori” pieces, commemorating the inevitability of death and passage between worlds.

At home I began gathering together ideas and decided death would row a boat with a casket while a Xolo sat atop, amidst flowers. I would call the work “Final Voyage.” The lake is set among mountains. The mood is somber but a light shows through the clouds, illuminating the waters. The course is set, the journey begun, with our Xolo guide present showing the way.

First study

Detail

Xoloitzcuintle

After we moved to Mexico Amy wanted a dog. Not me. I had not owned a dog for over twenty years because I traveled frequently for extended periods. 

When I met Amy in 2017 she had an old chihuahua named Unica. It died within a year. We married in 2018 and moved to Oaxaca, Mexico in 2019. Here, especially outside the city, many destitute animals wander around neglected. Three adopted us. It was because we pitied them and fed them. After the first two I told Amy not to show compassion any more. But a starving brown dog was too much for her to look at⏤and then there were three. One was murdered by a roaming alpha male that asserts himself over the vicinity. One we care for cannot be touched. Each has his own set of fears.

These dogs came to us. But in her heart, Amy wanted the dog that is considered an emblem of Mexico, called Xoloitzcuintle. I had never seen one before moving to Mexico. At first sight I found them rather repulsive. Hairless, wrinkled, with often a tuft of colored hair (moica ) shooting up between their eyes onto the forehead. Amy had an attraction to the Xoloitzcuintle. Maybe because she is a person who deeply feels cultural roots. The name is from the Nahuatl language. Nahua people primarily live in central Mexico and comprise the largest indigenous group. The Aztecs and Toltecs are descendants.

Famous Mexican artists Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera had several  Xoloitzcuintles. Frida's favorite was “Mr. Xolotl,” after the Aztec canine deity and guardian of the underworld.

Amy began following online posts about Oaxaca Xoloitzcuintle. We almost bought one, but it was just before a two month trip to the east coast and Europe. While we were gone, our house sitters took care of feeding the “adopted” dogs that showed up at the backdoor each day.



It happened quickly. Amy saw on Facebook that the breeder here in Oaxaca had a puppy for sale. It was available because the people who had asked for it had not responded to phone calls. We went to have a look, meeting at a nearby coffee shop. The breeder, Enrique, arrived late. Opening the front of his jacket, two big ears popped out, then a little face with inquisitive eyes. With a half hour it was done. We drove home with our Xoloitzcuintle. It will be a medium sized female. 

So far so good. Her name is Malinalli, a day in the Aztec calendar associated with the god Patecatl. Patecatl is associated with medicine, healing, and fertility. She is the most intelligent animal I have ever had. Curious, attentive, playful and sometimes obstreperous. She trains quickly.

Amy is her favorite. 

I call her Molly.

To Paint A Dream

 

Since moving to our little village outside Oaxaca, Mexico, Amy and I have have been strongly influenced by our new culture. From our second floor studio in our home, we have been slowly but steadily producing “las pinturas con una diferencia.”  At some point we hope to mount a public show together.  Our styles and subjects are different enough to make it quite interesting.

Amy has completed a new work from our studio, called, Into the Mystic, acrylic on board, 24"x39".  She says:

"Xoloitzcuintle or xolo dogs are revered in Mexico since ancient times for their profound, otherworldly abilities. They are uniquely hairless and are considered to possess healing abilities, as well as guides for their Master on his/her journey to the spirit world. I decided to paint a dream I had of the end of the fifth sun, when the old paradigm departs and the sixth sun commences. In my painting, the xolos challenge Quetzalcoatl. The humans are in partnership with the xolos⏤conjuring the New Day. The female xolo with her newborn pups represent the coming of the sixth sun. We see the phases of the moon…the passage of time.
My true hope is to have a xolo. But for now, I can only visualize them as part of my world."