Into the Blue Then Into the Blues

I love Frank Sinatra; he's the perfect accompaniment for ballroom dancing, writing, doing the dishes, and cooking [note: for the best results I'd recommend doing the last two listed items whilst also ballroom dancing alone in the kitchen]. Almost two weekends ago I couldn't get "Come Fly with Me" out of my head because I had an opportunity I would have never imaged before arriving in Puerto Rico: I flew in a very small airplane over the coast and part of the Caribbean Sea piloted by one of my co-workers.

We were celebrating another co-worker's birthday and Robert offered to take the birthday girl and a few more of us up in his plane. Around 11am we headed to the "airport". I use quotation marks because the airport was essentially a field of tall grass, a few abandoned buildings, a hose, some rickety-looking hangars, and a paved stretch of asphalt serving as the runway.

One of the old hangars.

The plane was small and could only seat the pilot and one passenger at a time, so we took turns waiting on the ground. When it was my turn to climb inside, I was amused by how closely the inside of the plane resembled an old Oldsmobile my father used to have-- give or take a lot of gears and meters on the dashboard, of course. Despite only seating two people, the dashboard allotted for quite a bit of leg room. We put on the headsets so we could hear each other talk, then took off down the runway.

This stretch is perpendicular to the runway.

I was expecting a jolt when we left the ground, but none came. It wasn't as jarring as a large commercial plane, in fact, it felt just like driving in my father's old Oldsmobile; a bit bumpy at times, but reliably comfortable. We flew over the coast near Arroyo and glided over part of the Caribbean Sea. As we doubled back I had the option to pick if I wanted to fly over Guayama and see the buildings or stick with the sea. Since I couldn't keep my face away from the window to try and take in all of the water, rocks, mangroves, and sandbars, I couldn't part with the sea. These things are beautiful when you're level with them, but seeing them from up above and being able to see mangroves and sandbars hidden from you on the ground is amazing. The water whitened and jostled to show movement, but from the sky everything was placid.

After we landed Robert took another skyward trip so I waited on the ground where my heart was promptly stolen by a black lab mix puppy. One of my co-workers had given the puppy crackers which he chewed with utter joy. I noticed he was having trouble swallowing the crackers because of all the salt and went in search of water. By one of the abandoned buildings there was a water dish that had once been white but was now saturated green from various vegetation/mold growth. With no other options, I washed the bowl under the hose as best as I could and called the puppy over to me. He came right up to me without any qualms, drank some water, then laid down in the shade. 

"My" airport puppy. You can see the bugs in the picture.

The poor little guy kept squinting his eyes and appeared to have some type of eye infection. He wasn't putting all of his weight on one of his back legs, his ears were dirty, and I could see bugs leaping off him (the only thing that stopped me from petting him). My brain raced with the possibilities of taking him to a vet and adopting him, but currently it does not appear possible. When Robert came back he said this dog was relatively new to the airport and that, unfortunately, airport dogs don't last long. What he was referring to was that the dog was abandoned at the airport, and because the airport is basically a field far away from water, the dogs left there don't survive very long because of lack of food and someone to turn the spout to refill their moldy water dish. 

Stray dogs are a huge problem in Puerto Rico. After meeting "my" airport puppy, I researched the entire next week to see if there was a way I could finance adopting him. While this adoption is sadly iffy at best currently, I do plan to adopt a stray from Puerto Rico before I leave for good. In the meantime, however, I came across some fascinating information about strays on the island, including the statistic that there approximately 3-6 stray dogs for every square mile in Puerto Rico. Because there are so many strays, most of the animal shelters are at-capacity and are forced to euthanize animals because they can't afford to keep all of them. 

I came across several organizations trying to combat this problem and they even offer overseas adoption for people in the States. The dogs are rescued from streets and beaches, given all of their shots and treatments, and are sent on planes to the arms of their new family in the States. If you're interested in rescue-adoption or information about the organizations check out: http://www.islanddog.org/home.html

For more information on the dog overpopulation of Puerto Rico there are tons of sources. Here is one from the Huffington Post which mentions what life is like for these dogs: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/cesar-millan/saving-the-satos-stray-do_b_1470597.html

While I'd love for Fate to give me the go-ahead to adopt this airport puppy, I realize that this poor little guy is one of many. It makes me sad that I can't rescue him right now, but I will take a dog home with me when I leave Puerto Rico for good. The day at the airport started high and went rather low, but it was a great experience to see more of what Puerto Rico has to offer: both the beautiful and the bitter.