Having a Dog in Cabo

The people at the Los Cabos Humane Society were very nice, thorough and diligent. They have a process they follow that ensures rescued dogs have a required time with them, about 2 months, to get their shots and a clean bill of health before they can be spoken for. They also need to do a home inspection to ensure you’re going to provide a safe environment for the dog and not be running some cruel dog fighting operation. We met our cute little boy with a week until he could be spoken for. We know processes are what they are and technically we weren’t allowed to ask for him, but we did. We filled out all the paperwork and said that we wanted this dog!! We came back every day to walk him and ask when the home inspection was happening. Scheduling hiccups and some miscommunication caused some panic-stricken moments that somehow this wonderful dog might not be coming home with us. We finally got the word on a Thursday afternoon to come and get him on Friday. We signed off the final paperwork for him, made the 1,000 Peso donation and loaded him up in the truck to come home. Like proud baby parents we had dog beds, dishes, toys and food all lined up and were ready to bring home the new addition to our family.

Like all the dogs at the humane society, no one knows their name. They are given one but it’s hardly a name that would stick in the two months a dog is there. Our Cockapoo had one of those names, it didn’t suit him. We thought long and hard about names for him. Like many ex-pats the idea of giving our Mexican dog a Spanish name seemed appropriate. I wanted to call him Chapo like the infamous El Chapo which means “Shorty”, an age old nickname of mine – given my last name – and an obviously cute name for a small dog. Samantha wasn’t about to have our dog named after any celebrity let alone one known for….… well you know.  After Pepe, Luna and countless other Spanish names the one we liked the best was Hefe or Jefe as in “El Jefe” which means “The Boss”. I’ve always been one for irony and somehow a 15 pound dog with a big cute grin on his face all the time being named Boss seemed perfect. We call him Hefe for our gringo friends back home so they don’t try referring to him as “Jeffey”. Hefe is awesome, he doesn’t bite, chew, or dig and he only barks when people come to the door. How someone gave him up we’ll never understand.

Our cute little Hefe came with no history about where he’d been before. The only thing the Humane Society knew was he was sitting at their front door. After having Hefe for 6 months, we noticed he doesn’t wander off – still doesn’t.  Somehow someone just dropped him off there at the Humane Society. When those reddish tips of Hefe’s fur disappeared with his first haircut, we got to thinking he had never been groomed and spent most, if not all, of his time outside taking in a lot of sun to turn that black fur reddish brown. We think he’d been hit or swatted. He hates brooms and is fearful of the pool guy.  He is deathly afraid of those fly zappers that look like tennis rackets and we think someone swatted him with one of those. Have you ever accidentally zapped yourself with one of those things – ouch!!

So six years on and we have had the greatest time with Hefe. He’s not the same scared little puppy he was when he first came home. We’re convinced he was less than a year old, more like 6 months. He’s grew some more in the first year with us putting on a healthy 7 pounds. Over time he became much friendlier with people especially the ladies. 

Adopting Our Second Mexican Dog