Berkley Center

When considering the characteristics that constitute a city’'s uniqueness, some of the first themes that come to mind include architecture, cuisine, and culture. In Valparaiso, things are different (a phrase that pops into my mind quite often here). Walking along the city streets, what first caught my attention were neither the rows of pastel colored houses, the odd assortment of monuments built by various European colonial powers, nor the abundance of artistic urban graffiti, but rather another striking sidewalk phenomenon: countless numbers of scraggly, stray dogs.

Such an oddity is perhaps not overly surprising, given Valpo’'s long tradition and history as a city whose quaint qualities have continuously defied the standards of others. However, this doesn'’t make the presence of the dogs any less disconcerting for many travelers and foreigners more accustomed to experiencing culture through a canvas or dinner plate than through a furry creature with fangs.

Of course, you can always attempt to ignore them by lifting your gaze upwards towards the sprawling, colorful “ceros” (or “hills”) that surround the city'’s port like an amphitheater. Be warned, however: diverting your attention away from the street dogs won’'t make them go away, and will, in fact, only increase your chances of tripping over one as it begs for food or sleeps lazily on a street corner.

The overwhelming presence of such “perros callejeros” (or street dogs) isn'’t simply limited to the crowded plazas and touristy squares, but howls throughout the whole of the city, from the base of the port to the very tops of the hills. In fact, a study in 2007 reported an estimated 25,000 dogs roam as strays throughout Valparaiso'’s “ceros.” To put that number into context, the urban population of Valparaiso is only approximately 263,000. That'’s right: for every 10 people in Valparaiso, there is roughly one dog that roams the street without any visible owner. While this figure may seem shocking to an outsider, it is of little surprise to anyone who has spent any considerable time as a resident or visitor in the city. On any given day, as I take a short walk between classes, it is extremely common for me to pass a dozen dogs, some wandering alone, other scavenging in larger packs. While Valparaiso most definitely has a shortage of trash bins, rest assured there are always a few pups within arm's length ready and eager to help finish any leftovers.

However, the phenomenon of these “vagos” (or strays) stretches far beyond the over-abundance of canine droppings that plague pedestrians on a daily basis. This is not a matter that can be addressed by investing in a few more pooper-scoopers. While these callejeros are normally friendly and harmless, there are certainly times when their presence is an inconvenience to the city. Take the recent September celebration of Chile’'s bicentennial, for example: in order to prevent any major canine disruption or turmoil in the official parade as it passed by the National Congress, the city was forced to set up a massive, makeshift “dog nursery,” filled with bowls of water, and food, a few blocks away from the action in order to attract and divert all nearby strays. More threateningly, large “pandillas” (gangs) are known to occasionally bark, growl, and even chase after pedestrians as they walk by. Bites are not uncommon, with 5,500 registered in the year 2005 alone.

Additionally, of course, it would be neglectful to ignore the manner in which this issue impacts the stray dogs themselves. Performing volunteer work each week at a local dog shelter here in Valpo, I’'ve had the chance to talk to the owner about gravity of the situation. He emphasized the culpability of the locals, particularly condemning the failure of owners to sterilize their pets, as well as the common (and related) practice of abandoning unwanted animals in the street. “The citizen that abandons an animal,” he began, simultaneously applying a flea collar to a fluffy and surprisingly purebred Chow Chow, “doesn’'t have the understanding or criterion in his ‘cultural hard drive’ to recognize that his action will bring about pain in this abandoned animal; the animal will be forced to look for food, water, and a place to sleep. The strongest might survive, and the rest will die due to accidents, lack of food, sickness, or mistreatment on the part of other imprudent men.”

Continuing, he explained that a resolution to the unjust and poor conditions faced by these dogs would require a comprehensive agenda, including the sterilization of stray and house pets in a massive form, high fines for pet abandonment, mandatory education in schools concerning pet vaccinations and sterilizations, and the end of “secret” pet owners, or those who allow their dogs to roam freely through the streets, without supervision. While there may be insufficient funds to allocate towards a full resolution to the problem, he claimed, there is also a lack of determination and will to tackle this issue on the part of the authorities and the public at large. Following his opinion, the public has an interest in seeking a solution, as the reduction of the stray population, and resulting increases in urban safety and cleanliness, would likely help to bolster tourism in Valparaiso.

On the other hand, not all in Valpo characterize the city'’s canine occupation in a negative light. Asking a local friend about her opinion of the dogs, I was surprised to hear her refer to them as fellow “Porteños” (port locals). “They are part of our way of life,” she said calmly. “Like all of the old buildings that line our streets, the dogs are part of what make this city what it is; without them, this would not be Valparaiso.” Another local, in an interview with the Valparaiso Times, echoes this sentiment, stating that the street dogs “are as important as the residents themselves who live here, and the street murals and architecture. The strays are part of the essence of our neighborhood.”

Such attitudes reflect the ever-present romanticism of Valparaiso’'s identity. With firm belief in their city’'s unconventional and unorthodox beauty, locals often reject the criterion of others, accepting and incorporating certain phenomena as ‘fundamental’ to the city’'s character that might puzzle others, such as the overflowing graffiti, the disorganized chaos of houses in the cerros, the aging buildings in the plazas, or in this case, the massive settlement of strays that live among the citizens.

Seen in this light, the issue of stray dogs in Valpo becomes more than just a traditional problem found in a developing nation. It moves beyond the mere difficulties of financial allocation to public services and strikes at the very core of Valparaiso’'s identity and self-understanding. Looking forward, it will be interesting to see how the locals reconcile their romantic view of these perros callejeros as fundamental to the city'’s quintessence with the very real social problems that such canine presence poses towards sanitation, safety, and animal rights.