Getting Locked Out: Human Perspective vs. A Dog's

Today I locked myself out of my apartment. This was literally the first time in my life I have locked myself out of a home or car. In fact, for about 5 years I had AAA lock out coverage. I used it exactly three times- once for my friend Abby and twice for my ex boyfriend. Sure, when I was a kid and not deemed responsible enough for a set of keys, I got locked out a few times. However, my brothers and I were masters at the art of breaking into our own home. A lockout might have been one of the few things that could fully unite us. For each house we had different plans. My favourite lockout plan involved the condo we lived in; Benjy and I would lift our oldest brother Billy high enough to reach the balcony so he could hoist himself up and enter the house that way. The reasoning behind this being that he had the most upper body strength which he built up over years of beating the crap out of us both.

But I digress. The point is, today was the day when I finally locked myself out. I was actually having a rather pleasant, dare I say lucky day. I came home to my dog Padfoot frantically throwing himself at my legs. I decided I should take him out immediately. I set the keys down so I could attach his leash and proceeded to exit and close the door. The second the door click I realized what I had done.

I stood there for a couple seconds, simply staring at the door. I tentatively pushed on it, as if it would recognize my touch and simply swing open. Not only were my keys inside, but also my cell phone and cash. I fell back against the wall and repeated to myself "no no no nooo"


I looked to my right to see the door of the neighbors who I am pretty sure do not like me. They have an incredibly annoying wiener dog who Padfoot seems to reserve a special amount of hatred for. I opted to go left to the apartment of a girl whose name I do not know and have seen maybe a total of 3 times in 10 months. Luckily, she was home and super friendly. She allowed me to log onto her computer so I could look up the phone number of my apartment agency. I had to call them to get the cell phone number of my landlady, who is the only other person with keys. She informed me she would be home soon and I could walk to her apartment.

I thanked next-door girl whose name I still have not learned and went downstairs to exit and begin my walk to my landlady's home. When I got to the door I realized you also need a key to exit the building. I was forced to ring another bell and asked to be let out of the building.

The walk took about 30 minutes, not too bad. Padfoot was thrilled, of course. He didn't even care when we almost got hit by a car. Honestly, I have never been that close to being hit before. I mean, technically the care came in contact with my body, that's how fucking horrible that driver was. It went down like this:

- Walk sign turns on, I begin to cross the street
- Taxis continue to turn with little regard for pedestrians
- I walk across after said taxis have finished being assholes
- Black mini van lady comes swinging around and plows towards me
- At the last second, I am able to jump and catch myself with my hands on the hood
- I see Padfoot under the car

For about 1.5 seconds, I though my dog was dead or at the very least, severely injured. Instead, Padfoot trotted out from under the car, untouched. The woman behind the wheel had a look on her face that said "Oh My God I had no idea people walked here! That seems dangerous!"


Honestly, in the end it was just an inconvenient situation with one mild near-car accident. I came home hungry and annoyed by the waste of time. However, I couldn't help but think how differently Padfoot must had viewed this whole situation.

I enter apartment
HIHIHI YAAAY HIIIII HOME HI!
I get out the leash
I LOVE LEASH! OUTSIDE! OUTSIDE OUTSIDE OUTSIDE!
I close the door and realize I have locked myself out
LET'S GO TO THE METAL BOX THAT MOVES! OUTSIDE! OUTSIDE OUTSIDE OUTSIDE!
We enter the neighbor's apartment
SMELL NEW THINGS! YES! SO MANY THINGS TO SMELL!
Arriving at the front door and having to double back to find someone to let us out
Why no outside? Why? NO PLEASE OUTSIDE PLEAAAASSSEE
Running into the dogs that live on the floor below us
I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE ARE BARKING ABOUT! I BARK LOUDER! LOUD NOISES! NO ESPANOL!
Walking to my landlady's apartment
I love you, mom. I love outside. This is great. Thank you mom. OUTSIDE I LOVE OUTSIDE!
Nearly getting run over by a car
It's dark under there let's find grass! More grass, mom! I love you mom!
Waiting in the lobby of my landlady's building were the glass reflects dogs from outside
Secret dogs! MUST GET TO SECRET DOGS! WHERE ARE THEY GOING?! SECRET DOGS! MUST BARK MUST PULL MUST RUN!
Arriving home
SUPER FUN AWESOME TIMES MOM! 


If only I could have enjoyed this as much as Padfoot.

No Ladro en Español

For those of you who do not know, I have a dog named Padfoot. Yes, like the Harry Potter character. He's a very special dog, the kind that involves a lot of explanation. He has always been special but moving to Buenos Aires has only made him more so.

After being shaved he tried to run from my camera.

Let's take a look at Padfoot's issues before we moved.
Padfoot was abused, left in a garbage bag in the woods along with his brother and mother. He was rescued and I received him as a gift when he was almost 9 months old. I later found out that if dogs do not socialize with other dogs and humans before 8 months, they will be slightly off, forever. Curses.
So, my little Padfoot has some oddities, such as his long list of fears:

• Cameras. Flash or no flash, he will run away and hide. He knows the sound of a digital camera turning on, he recognizes all camera like objects. That is why, in the 3 1/2 years I have had him, I have taken so few photos. The only ways around this fear are to use a cell phone, webcam, zoom in from far away, or ambush him and hope to snap one photo before he sprints away.
• Basketballs, Kickballs and Ping Pong balls. Please note that tennis balls, footballs and soccer balls are not on this list, he seems fine with those. My best guess is that the fear has something to do with the sound the balls make when they bounce. If he hears them, even in the distance, he will go absolutely apeshit and try to get close enough to destroy them.
• His reflection. He simply cannot grasp the fact that it is himself. He seems to become filled with confusion driven anger at the sight of his reflection. He is infinitely perplexed by his inability to smell or touch this other dog.
• The Drummer Boy. No, not a person with drums, but the song. He truly hates the song. It is amazing that I can turn it on, watch him bark like crazy, then turn it off and see him calm down immediately.
• Unfamiliar exit strategies. Seeing as he was abandoned, his whole abandonment complex is not all that surprising. However, it is not all exits that bother him. In all the places he has stayed and lived, he has understood that if I exit through the front door, I will return. However, glass doors tend to freak him out. If I exit through anything bur the front door, he assumes he is being left, forever and ever, with no hope. He also will not accept being tied up outside a store or even our own house, for that too equals infinite abandonment in his mind.
• Rain. This is a common fear among dogs. What I find interesting is his need to be in tiny spaces during rain storms. I also like to be in small spaces when I am upset, it was something I realized when I was a kid. Padfoot mimics this and follows me from room to room, hiding in closets and under beds.
• Falling Snow. Note the "falling". He's totally fine with it on the ground. In fact, he loves snow on the ground. However, if it begins to fall, he will bark at it and jump in the air, attempting to snatch it all from the air. 

Padfoot loves sledding with Abby and I.

Padfoot moves to Buenos Aires

All those fears remain now that we are in Buenos Aires. However, I believe his ride beneath the plane shook him up a bit but more than anything- it's the language barrier.

Yep, I said it, it's the language barrier. In the United States, Padfoot ignored other dogs. He did not want to play with them and if they attacked him, he would lay down in defeat. However, ever since our arrival to Buenos Aires he has become incredibly aggressive towards local dogs. He nearly chokes himself at the site of them, lunging toward dogs 3 times his size, growling and barking viciously.

Padfoot walking alongside Francis, his US buddy.

 I thought it was the plane ride, until I took Padfoot on a walk with Francis, my friend Sara's dog, who is also from the United States. Padfoot was 100% normal. He basically ignored Francis and was totally calm. 

On two other occasions, Padfoot has encountered dogs on the streets and taken a liking to them. When I began talking to the owners, I realized immediately that they, too, were from the United States. 

So now, I imagine Padfoot frantically barking at other dogs and the translation being something like "WHERE AM I?! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!". I imagine him, walking the streets of Buenos Aires, in a state of pure panic. My poor, lost puppy. I hope that after 7 months he has at least learned how to tell the other dogs "No ladro en Español!" (I don't bark in Spanish).

Do you think dogs have a language?