By Charlie Campbell

The British have long been described as a nation of dog lovers. I am very proud to consider myself amongst that number. Man’s best friend has long been a source of (plutonic) friendship to me whenever our more traditional companions have had a headache. Nonetheless, upon my arrival in Buenos Aires I had to wonder if my native land’s title as canines’ truest amigos hadn’t been usurped by the epidemic ownership exhibited by our Latin cousins.

The streets of Argentina’s capital are filled with the barks, whines, yelps and smells of dogs. With a healthy proportion of the city’s residents occupying apartment buildings, the logistics of keeping large breeds content and healthy are sometimes problematic.

Photo By: Kate Stanworth

It is for this reason that the sight of professional dog-walkers (paseaperros) is common on the roads and avenues of the metropolis. Since my arrival in the city I have long wondered how these individuals manage to keep such a multitude – often over 20 at a time – happy and placid when I have trouble with just one mild-mannered German Shepherd at home.

So when I was presented with the opportunity to shadow one of these canine-Jedis for a week I rolled over and begged at the chance.

Learning the Leashes

Waiting for Fabricio at a quite corner of Belgrano on a chilly Monday morning I was still unsure what to expect. I was also being followed by a US documentary team from Global Transmission Media just praying for some humiliating footage of a hapless gringo making a fool of himself.

Suddenly the silence was broken by what was going to soon become the familiar sound of rowdy pets as my mentor for the next week arrived. Fabricio, 30, appears with fleece, beanie and sunglasses – not to mention 22 hounds securely attached to a modified climbing harness around his waist.

Photo By: Kate Stanworth

I step forward into the mealy to shake his hand and am greeted with my first lesson of professional dog-walking – watch where you tread. Buenos Aires is notorious for the ubiquitous deposits of foul-smelling excrement which any visitor could hardly have missed.

Whilst scraping my sole against the curb and pondering how remarkably accurate my exclamation of disgust had been, I see my tutor has already scampered at quite a rate across the road.

Here Fabricio explains to me lesson two – keep the dogs moving. “As long as they are in their correct positions in the group and are moving forward that’s half the battle,” he tells me. “When you stop and they get a chance to misbehave you can get into trouble.”

The dogs are all of reasonably large breeds. Labradors, Golden Retrievers and sheepdogs abound as well as one large Rottweiler. Bonzo, Fabricio explains is the alpha-male of the group. “In every group there tends to be boss which maintains order amongst the pack. This group has not been together for very long so there are sometimes problems, but I think Bonzo must be their leader.”

Photo By: Kate Stanworth

My first job arrives as I am handed my first charge. The undoubted runt of the litter, a diminutive speckled Terrier called Lennon. The film crew is delighted with the sight of Fabricio leading 21 dogs along the street followed by a 6ft3 Brit with a single pup so small that he would scarcely have made a gratifying canapé.

My new responsibility is short-lived, however, when it emerged that we only had a couple of blocks to go before Lennon was safely returned home.

With the Liverpudlian crooner safely enjoying a well-deserved snooze – Fabricio informs me that the dogs normally sleep for about five hours after their daily dalliance in the sun – we continue on our way

I take the opportunity to quiz Fabricio further about his job.

“The day starts at 7.20am when I begin to pick up all the dogs,” he tells me. “Then by 10am most of the dogs are on board and we walk for around an hour. Then we drop the dogs off in the same order.”

This daily routine involves a little over five hours work with the dogs receiving exactly three hours walking each. The route never changes a great deal and this allows the owners to know exactly what time to expect their pooches collected and returned.

“What if the owners are not around to answer the door?” I enquire, almost getting tangled up in a veritable maypole as I do. Fabricio pulls an immense bunch of keys from a pouch at the small of his back. “I have keys for most of the owner’s houses,” he explains. “If not I’ll take the dog back to my place and leave him there until I can make contact.”

Photo By: Kate Stanworth

“It’s not a problem now as I have my own place,” he continues. “Before, when I lived with my father, it could be a problem as he didn’t really like dogs. I had to wait in the street until the owner returned, even if it was raining!”

Here the level of trust involved becomes apparent. Dog-walkers in the city are a part of life, respected and depended-upon members of the community who take their job seriously and have greater responsibility than I first imagined.

“I have never taken a day off sick in nine years,” Fabricio tells me with pride. “I took two days off after my girlfriend died four years ago and that’s it. When my father died there was a public holiday the next day, but the day after that I was back working.”

Fabricio hands me another dog that was due to be delivered. Some of the smaller or older dogs don’t receive quite as much exercise as the rest.

After the remaining pooches were returned to their rightful owners I left Fabricio for the subte ride home. Although I was absolutely exhausted I had enjoyed the 15km hike. Most of all I was looking forward to the next day and the prospect of gaining control of the whole troop.

Entering the Fray

The next day the dogs seemed a little less chirpy than the previous. “After the weekend they are always energetic after a couple of days rest,” Fabricio explains. “Then they settle down a little.”

“Have you ever been bitten by the dogs?” I inquire with an obvious agenda. Fabricio lifts up his shirt and reveals a number of small scars.

“Very occasionally you can get bitten, yes,” he tells me. “The main problem is if the owner treats them in the right way. There are no dangerous breeds of dogs simply those not trained correctly. Any dog can be dangerous if not handled well.”

Reassured by this it is not long before I get a chance to step into the horde and experience the job firsthand. With the belt securely fastened I set about trying to get the 16 dogs to which I have been tethered to move in unison whilst not trip over leashes, animals or feces.

The constant tugging and pulling takes its toll on my lower back and thighs but after a while the pack seems to be moving in an orderly and civilised fashion. I begin to feel quite important surrounded by my own personal militia.

Photo By: Kate Stanworth

The dogs always walk in the road to evade pedestrians or other animals running out from gardens and spooking the group. Plus this avoids covering the pavement with muck. There is no time to stop so the dogs must just relieve themselves on the move. Normally this involves some rather unceremonious dragging.

Occasionally the dogs change positions or start bickering and need to be handled firmly. “If any trouble starts you need to stamp it out immediately,” Fabricio tells me. “If one dog acts up they can set off the others very quickly.”

I ask Fabricio why he became a dog-walker. “I started off just helping out a friend,” he tells me. “Then I really took to it. I earn twice as much doing this than as a photo-journalist, that’s what I studied at university. Plus I only have to work five hours a day from Monday to Friday.”

Many different professions have found it more profitable walking dogs than their original careers. “I charge around $100 a month to each client,” Fabricio tells me. “I now have a friend helping me by taking some of my dogs. People see me in the street and that I am responsible, that’s how I get my clients. Or I am recommended by other customers.

“I know fully qualified vets that have taken up dog walking to make more money,” he says. “Two years ago my friend was earning only $5 an hour as a vet, that’s just $1 more than the guy that washes the dogs!”

We pause as Fabricio delivers another pet to its home. My charges seem unusually quiet until I look around and see an act of fornication very much in progress. Feeling very prudish I separate the pair but Bonzo appears to disapprove. He must have a voyeuristic side to his character.

I have never been very intimidated by dogs. However, when a Rottweiler that looks like he could chase a brown bear up a tree starts growling, I tend to take note – especially when he is tied to my waist. Thankfully he is eventually placated and we continue onwards without any more problems.

A Change of Careers?

All in all the life of a dog-walker is certainly attractive. Of course occasionally the job can become quite stressful when there is traffic to be negotiated. The added obstacles of level-crossings, children, prams, other dogs and elderly pedestrians demand constant vigilance.

Despite this, the days continued relatively free of problems. The exercise is certainly vigorous and maintaining order can be difficult, especially when the females are on heat.

As well as walking the dogs, we also delivered them to the professional groomers and kept an eye on their health. Sometimes they emerged looking so dashing I began to feel quite self-conscious. Once I even went home and had a shave.

Getting to know the individual personalities is key. Achilles was young and boisterous, Hans was affectionate and Kancha definitely had an eye on the ladies. My favourite was Kampi, a gorgeous Golden Retriever. He would always bark in a schoolyard ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ manner whenever the other dogs were engaged in a round of handbags, without ever getting involved himself.

Certainly I could imagine taking up the job full-time. Fresh air, exercise and friendly companionship is always attractive. So, Gringo Dog-Walkers Inc? Watch this space.