Water dissolves impurities and washes all it touches clean. And rain also cuts down on the number of people out.

I’d toss the dog a few morsels, watch it eat, and then start again. Some were kept on short leashes by their owners; others would wind their chains around their doghouse or a tree, and then couldn’t figure out how to untangle themselves. They’d end up half-strangled. I’d spend several hours with each animal, very early in the morning. I’d focus on the ones that barked lots since the neighbours would have been desensitized to the barking and stopped paying attention. Then I’d give the dog some time to get used to my presence. Some took a few sessions, but most dogs accepted me after just one or two. I’d sit down close, give them some food and water, speak softly to them. I’d pet them a little, too, even though most were pretty gross. It’s true what the dog trainers say: there are no bad dogs, just bad owners.

Spending so much time with dogs taught me to cultivate patience. I also learned to observe people carefully. I’d choose a patch of ground that wasn’t covered in dog shit and take a seat. Once a dog accepted me, I was free to approach the house and peer through the windows. I’d watch the sun rise from the patio. Unplug the pool pumps, to hear better. And I’d play little tricks, nothing serious. Swap dogs. I’d secretly bought a leash, and I kept it on a nail I’d hammered in under our balcony for that purpose. I’d collect one dog, then tie it somewhere next to the spot where I planned to pick up the other one. I couldn’t just do the exchange right on the spot since you never know how two dogs meeting each other for the first time are going to react. Then I’d take the second dog to the first one’s home and tie it up, and tie the first one in the usual spot of the second. It caused a lot of confusion.