I suggested that there were three confirmed classifications of Peruvian dog, but that there might be a fourth, it's existence suggested by the sale of 'pet dog' food. I was wrong. There is a fourth dog classification, and its confirmation has been a most interesting surprise.
In Jauja I spot a small dog wearing a knitted pink jersey. I surmised that a child had taken a pair of scissors and decided to cut up an old dress, by way of some play. We turn another corner and find a black pooch lying in the sun on a doorstep, this time in a blue number with a fetching football motif; three further sightings follow in quick succession. It's probably significant that all the sightings have been for small dogs, those from a gene pool that includes Poodle, Poodle and Poodle. I've seen pure breeds in sun hats, pedigrees in goggles, only these were in Sydney and Florida, but Peruvian pooches decked out in designer couture? This worrying. What is it doing for the canine machismo?
Twenty minutes later the Navigator discovers the answer. We've decided to take a walk out of town to the local lake. We're striding along purposefully, when trouble erupts out of the dark depths. It's more of an Alsatian type and comes raging out from a yard, all bared, snapping teeth. The Navigator manages to grab a stone in time and it grudgingly backs off. The second attack she wasn't quite as quick. Fortunately she was wearing long, tough trousers and that has afforded some protection. She now sports a developing bruise on her ankle. What would be interesting if it weren't so disturbing, is they have a habit of going after her and not I. Even if we swap sides, they still circle around to be able to attack her. It's a fact that we've noted before, some places have more angry dogs than others. There's been several close encounters today. We're in one of those places at the moment.
Back to the lighter side of the local dog population and their affection for dressing up. We've cycled over another pass and descended to Tarma. We're wandering through the tight colonial streets, we've passed the usual clutch of pharmacies, the ever expanding multiplicity of mobile 'phone emporiums, when, we encounter a collection of pet shops. The Navigator suggests that we check one of them out. Sure enough, there on the back wall are hangers of 'ropa por perro'. A selection of apparels suitable for your pet. I wonder if by dressing up your pet you're identifying it, making it obvious that it's not a street dog, even if your pampered pooch's muzzle is buried neck deep in a black plastic bag of rotting offal. Perhaps the dog attacks we've experienced is a reaction to this latest new fashion.