Dogs in Athens

As many of you know, I am a big dog fan. So far, we have seen lots of dogs on Athens, but I have found two things surprising. First, I would swear they are all related: they seem to be the same vague German shepherd mix, only different colors.
(I have seen a couple of what I would term "rat dogs" on leash, but they are a definite minority. The second thing is that they all spend most of the day lying on the sidewalk, apprently exhausted by the heat. I would think that they are strays, but many of them have collars and ID tags.

There is one who hangs out just outside the main Tourist Office. Let's call him Zeus. He must spend the day there in a near comatose state. He was completely unmoved by my attempts at international diplomacy. Dogs in modern Greek are not referred to by their cynically-inspired ancient name, but by the word "o skilos." Zeus, however, did not answer to, "Hey, skilos!" While we were in the Tourist office, I noticed that he suddenly got up and went around the corner. Where did he go? For a drink? (There was no water outside the Office.) The Call of Nature? An urgent telephone call? Or just on Walkabout?

At about 5:30, when the Greeks return to work from their afternoon siesta, the Athenian police take to the streets to assist traffic. Evidently because traffic laws are merely mild suggestions that most feel free to disregard, chaos would otherwise ensue. Erm, I mean more chaos. Certainly traffic is chaotic enough! Dawn told us to remember that pedestrians do not have the right of way, and motorbikes especially have a way of zooming in out of nowhere. Also, none of these transitional blinking red "Don't Walk" signs--the signals go straight from green (="Walk If You Dare") to red ("You're a Dead Man if You Leave the Sidewalk, and even then, you May Be Taken out by a Rogue Motorbike.")

So a couple of days ago, as the police were directing traffic on the main drag of Stadiou, all of a sudden one of the dogs who had been lying soporifically on the sidewalk got up, went into the middle of the intersection, and just started barking furiously away at one of the police as if he had been gravely offended. The police just ignored him. As we walked on, I could hear him continuing his grievance with the police. Perhaps it was his whistle? I guess we could call this the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Afternoon.

This dog followed some of the female students from the hotel all the way to the school (about ten minutes) His name must be Prometheus, friend to humans. Here he is standing at the door of the school, forlornly waiting for Melissa to come back...