Friends along the way

I figure the more street dogs I make friends with, the better off I'll be in the long run. Roof dogs aren't as common here as they are in Mexico, but the street variety are plentiful.

This guy generally follows from in front of me. It's weird how they do that. Often, when we're traveling, we'll get to a new town, and before we know it, we've got a companion. And they always follow from in front, as if they want to keep up appearances. And they'll hange with us the whole time we're in whatever town we're in. We had a lot of good luck with dogs up in the northwest. Oh, but then there was Rolo from San Ignacio. Now that dog was coolest street dog I've ever met. Good name, too, eh no? I didn't name him. That's what the woman who ran the street stall told us his name was. That little fucker had more personality than most people I know. Except he staid clear of Pepe, another short-legged dog, but black, mean and missing an ear. He wouldn't let any of the other street dogs around the stalls. I gotta dig up a photo of Rolo. Hang on...