I’ve arrived at a heat threshold: 90 degrees. That’s the limit above which we can’t sleep inside the tin can that is our camper. In Santa Teresa Tehauntepec at 5pm the thermometer inside the Avion says 104 degrees so we take Wipeout for a walk and hope it cools off by nightfall.
If I can get heatstroke in Mexico, maybe my dog is susceptible too. Otherwise why would she pick this particular animal to challenge, head-on? I barely get out my camera in time, I’m laughing so hard. And then she charges the goat again. The sound of thick skulls smacking literally bounces through the papaya grove. I’ve always known Wipeout has more beauty than brains. But exactly one month into this road trip she proves she is as stubborn as the woman who insists on traveling with a gun.
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