Las Cruces, New Mexico. And it's not raining!
People have told me that Old Mesilla (just down the street from where we're staying) is worth seeing, so that's where we went today.
People are right. It's worth seeing. But first, lunch.
I know I'm close to home when I'm offered corn chips and salsa instead of bread and butter. Bao was delighted. He loves corn chips.
Old Mesilla has been left pretty much as it was built -- one storey, adobe buildings grouped around a central square. The buildings are shops, and the shops are quite good. It sort of reminded me of Taos, only smaller. I ended up buying another painting, by an extraordinary artist from Guadalahara. And a little, Navajo story-teller. My car has become a gigantic, three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle.
As we walked into a little bookshop, Bao let out a series of anguished, ear-splitting barks. When I looked down, he was sitting there at my feet, trembling all over. But what was wrong? What happened? I couldn't figure it out, nor could the other people in the shop. A woman said, Maybe you stepped on him. But I hadn't. I never step on him. Well, almost never.
Then the proprietor appeared. Turns out, he'd placed an electrified mat at the threshhold of his shop, to keep his own dogs from wandering out. And to make matters worse, one of those dogs is his wife's service dog! I was appalled, and I guess it showed. People have always said I'd make a lousy poker player.
It's only nine volts, he kept saying. It doesn't hurt them.
It sure as hell hurt Bao.
I said I didn't approve of using electric shocks to train dogs. I said, if you wouldn't do it to a child, you shouldn't do it to a dog.
Besides, I added, what if a barefoot child came into your shop? .
He got all huffy.
We left.
Tomorrow, home.